Shadowhunter
by 9Mfanfiction
Summary: Beca Mitchell's life is irrevocably flipped upside down when an unexpected turn of events forces her to face her family's past. In doing so, she must permanently leave her old life behind, including her boyfriend of two years, Jesse Swanson. But when their paths cross three years later, well... it's not exactly what either of them were expecting.
1. Unpleasant Surprises

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 1: Unpleasant Surprises**

**A/N: I know, I know… **

**You're probably asking, "Jeez, why is she writing another story when she has two unfinished ones?" Well you see…**

**I've had this idea in my head for a while and it is just tormenting me in the back of my brain. I don't fully know where this one will go, but, let's go over a few things before we get into this story.**

**This story will be a somewhat-crossover between **_**The Mortal Instruments **_**by Cassandra Clare and **_**Pitch Perfect**_**. What I mean by somewhat-crossover: Pitch Perfect characters, **_**The Mortal Instruments **_**Shadowhunters and Downworlders (vampires, warlocks, werewolves, faeries). **

**For those of you who do not know what Shadowhunters are, or are not familiar with the book series: Shadowhunters are half-human, half-angel warriors that protect our world from demons. No, they do not have wings. No, they are not immortal. They age and can die. Their home is Alicante, Idris, but they live among us as well. Most use these buildings called Institutes as a safe haven. Shadowhunters have these things called Marks/Runes. They heal, make you soundless, give you stealth, speed, strength, agility, courage, etc. Mundanes (AKA humans, mortals, muggles, whatever) do not know about Shadowhunters, demons, or the Downworld. They cannot bear Marks—human bodies are too weak. I recommend looking up some of these runes to have a further understanding, and perhaps a little bit of Shadowhunter history, because I WILL be using a lot throughout this story.**

**I will also mention the Clave. It's basically the Shadowhunter government. **

**VERY IMPORTANT. Most Shadowhunters are invisible to mundanes. If not, there is a GLAMOUR. A glamour is what prevents mundanes from seeing what is really there. For example: Imagine a blue-skinned demon with red eyes and silver hair. A mundane may see this as an overweight, middle-aged man with a hygiene problem. Or something. You get the point. **

**This story will be told in third-person POV. So, without further ado, here we go…**

* * *

Beca Mitchell was an ostensibly ordinary realist living with her parents in the heart of New York City. She loved her family, with all her heart. Her dad, Dr. John Mitchell, was an English teacher at Barden High School. Her mom, Sheila, was an artist struggling to sell her work.

The small family lived in a two-bedroom apartment above Madame Dorthea, a dark-skinned woman, probably in her fifties, that always burned incense. She didn't talk much; she ignored all of the Mitchell family's efforts to communicate.

Beca did not look like her mother. She had dark brown hair and startling blue eyes, while Sheila had blonde hair and brown eyes. Beca was short, Sheila was tall. It was never fair.

The short brunette was a junior at Barden High. She had a car, but it was being fixed and since her dad had to be at work early and Sheila was at an art show, she had to walk. But she never walked alone.

"Becaw!"

She turned her head to the sound of the noise but saw nothing. _Okay, maybe it _was_ nothing._

"Becaw! Becaw!"

She whipped her head back again. Nothing. _What the hell?_

"Bec—"

"Gotcha!" She turned around and grabbed Jesse's wrist before pulling him into a deep kiss on the sidewalk.

Jesse and Beca have been dating for two years and two months, and counting. They met in kindergarten, but didn't started dating until freshmen year, when she was finally allowed to date. Beca was not much of a planner, but Jesse was. He planned for them to graduate and go to college together, and Beca didn't doubt him. He was right a lot—more than she'd care to admit.

The couple held hands as they walked the last block to school. Just as Jesse opened his mouth, a phone buzzed. To be more specific, Beca's phone buzzed in her pocket.

_Received at 8:12AM  
From: Dad_

_Hey Becs. Just letting you know I'll be home in about ten minutes. With second semester starting, my planning period got changed around and I don't have a class first thing in the morning anymore. Do you need a ride to school still?_

Beca read over the text and rolled her eyes.

_Sent at 8:13AM  
To: Dad_

_I'm almost there, thanks anyway. _

"Who was that?" asked Jesse.

"My dad. He was offering a ride since he gets home soon. Guess he forgot school starts in seven minutes," Beca replied, sticking her phone back into her pocket.

"Can't blame him. He always seems to have a bad case of the Saturdays."

"I appreciate your optimism, but it's Friday."

"Speaking of optimism, I have a little surprise for you." He swung his arm around and retrieved a small box out of his backpack and handed it to Beca.

"Jesse, you know I'm not a fan of birthdays. Plus—"

"Just open it, weirdo," he grinned.

Beca eyed him suspiciously and then continued her gaze down to the small cardboard box in her hand. She removed the top and her eyes widened.

"You did not have to do this."

"Yes I did. It's your birthday and I love you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Inside the box lay a silver necklace with a charm that said "SM" on it. Beca lifted up the necklace and focused on it.

"'SM'?" she asked.

"It stands for Swanson-Mitchell. I figured it was more appropriate than Beca-Jesse, otherwise known as BJ."

* * *

After school ended, the couple had plans to go to the movies and celebrate her seventeenth birthday. Rather, Jesse was making Beca go to the movies to receive a 'formal movication.' She obliged, but only if he agreed they would go for another walk afterwards. Beca loved walks, especially since she lived in New York City. Jesse wasn't too thrilled with walking around New York at night, but he'd do anything for his Beca.

"Pick me up in an hour," she told him as she ascended the stairs to her apartment. He ran up to catch her and gave her one last kiss before smiling and running out the door.

Beca fumbled with her keys and entered the living area of her small home. White walls, dirty-white wooden floors with antique furniture and various canvases scattered around. Her dad was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and watching television. Sheila, on the other hand, was cooking dinner.

"School ended an hour ago," her dad informed. "What took so long?"

"Jesse and I were walking around," Beca replied. He eyed her. "I'm serious, Dad."

"You know I don't like that Jesse kid very much."

Beca rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Why? He never did anything."

"He took your virginity."

"_John_," Sheila said.

"Wow, yeah. Thanks Dad," Beca moved towards her room.

"Where are you going?" John set his coffee down and ran after Beca, catching her wrist.

"Jesse and I are _just _seeing a movie."

"You don't want to spend time with us on your birthday?"

She shrugged his hand off and went into her room, shutting the door with a loud slam.

John turned towards Sheila. She was pouting at him.

"You know she gets like this when she's overdue," Sheila said. John sighed. "You can't let her live in the shadows of what she really is for her whole life, John."

"She's not ready. I need to take her back to Magnus's tonight for her treatment. Her memories are resurfacing. She needs—"

"Mom," said Beca as she crept her door open. "What time will dinner be ready?"

"In about thirty minutes. I'm gonna run to the grocery store and get some green beans to go with it," Sheila informed. "John, if I'm not back in time can you take the casserole out of the oven?"

"Sure thing, dear."

With that, Sheila motioned off her apron and left the house.

* * *

The next hour sped by in what felt like minutes. The small family ate in silence as an indication that the chicken and wild rice casserole was a grave success.

_Ding-dong!_

"That's Jesse," Beca said, excusing herself from the table.

"Beca, wait," her dad exhaled.

"What?" She turned around.

"Make sure you come straight home tonight."

She gave Sheila a sideways glance and then looked back at her dad. "It's just a movie. I'll be home before nine, as always."

She opened the door for Jesse; he was wearing an indigo and black closed flannel and jeans. He smiled and opened his hand. She accepted it.

"Jesse, make sure to have her home by nine o'clock on the dot," said John.

"Yes sir," Jesse nodded, but didn't take his eyes off Beca. Together, they left the building.

* * *

Since Jesse and Beca were going on a walk after the movie, they decided to walk to the theater. It didn't take long; it was only about a ten to fifteen minute walk. But for some inconspicuous reason, Beca felt as if she were being followed the whole time. She frequently checked behind her, but there was nothing there.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked, rubbing his thumb on her hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I keep getting this bizarre feeling though… never mind. It's stupid," she shook her head.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

Jesse nodded, as if Beca just mentally ended the conversation. He knew her boundaries, and more importantly, when to stop pushing them. "Well," he started, changing the subject. "Are you excited to finally be seventeen?" Yeah, he wasn't the best at subject changes.

"Definitely. I get to change my twitter bio to 'seventeen and sassy,'" she replied. He chuckled. "And I'm one year closer to getting a tattoo."

"I better be there when you get it."

"Yeah, I'll need a hand to squeeze." He looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm kidding, nerd. I know how sensitive you are."

"And I know how _in_sensitive _you_ are," Jesse lightly punched her in the arm. She unattached her left hand from his right hand and playfully slapped his bicep back. He looked as if he were taken aback.

"Beca? What's on your hand?" he asked, grabbing her left hand and turning it so the palm was facing down.

"I-I don't know…"

On her hand was a black mark that looked like an outline of an eye with a swirl in the middle. The world '_Clairvoyance'_ appeared in the back of her brain.

"Clairvoyance," Beca whispered, so quietly that Jesse couldn't make out what she said.

"What?" Jesse asked. Beca blinked into reality.

"I have no idea. Can we just get our tickets and go inside? It's cold."

Jesse, doing the oldest trick in the book and possibly being the geekiest romantic ever, took of his jacket and placed it around Beca.

"Dork."

"You're welcome."

She glanced down at her left hand once again, but the mark was gone.

* * *

"That film was… grotesque," Beca confessed.

"Definitely not one of my favorite plot lines. Good scoring, though. Sorry Becs. It _looked_ good," Jesse sighed.

"It's okay. I enjoyed being with you."

"Well _now _who's the romantic one."

Jesse and Beca roamed hand in hand down the empty streets of New York. This neighborhood was always quiet. It was currently 8:39 PM, but Beca had no intentions of actually being home before nine. What? She didn't have to listen to her parents. She was almost an adult. Her dad was just being overprotective anyway. _Asshole_, Beca thought. He always thinks he can control her life. Who she hangs out with. What she does.

_No. Not anymore._

Beca took Jesse by the collar of his flannel and before he could react, she pushed him against the brick wall, engulfing his mouth in a hot, passionate kiss. It was only when air was becoming a problem that she broke away.

Jesse breathed in and out a few times before saying something. "What was that for?"

"I'm in a mood. Can we go somewhere? Your house? Anywhere but mine?"

"But your dad—"

"The hell with my dad." She pressed a hard kiss against his mouth and then retreated. "Please."

And together they walked back to Jesse's house and spent the night doing what high school couples did on Friday nights.

* * *

Beca woke up to a phone call the next morning. It was from her dad. Not wanting to wake Jesse up, she took the call on the balcony extending from his room.

"Hello?" she said.

"_Beca! Sweetheart—"_ Dr. Mitchell said. His voice was full of worry.

"Dad, calm down, I'm coming home—"

"_No! Do not come home. Do you hear me? Don't come home."_ There was a crash in the background. "_I love you!"_

"Dad?"

The line went dead.

What was that supposed to mean? He loves her but told her not to come home? Is he mad? No, that wouldn't make sense. Is he in trouble? No, don't jump to conclusions. He was probably just being dramatic, _again._ Maybe she should go home and make sure everything is okay.

She looked at her hand; the mark was there again.

"Jesse," she said, shaking him awake. "Jesse."

"Hmm…" he replied in his sleepy voice. _Damn_, his sleepy voice. Perhaps she should just let him sleep. Beca decided to text him a quick message so he'd know what to do when he woke up:

_I'm going home. Meet me for coffee in the afternoon at Java Jones. Love you._

She slipped on her underwear and bra first, then her tank top, jeans, and long-sleeve. She pressed a light kiss to Jesse's ruffled hair. He groaned and stirred, but didn't wake up.

* * *

Beca walked one block from Jesse's house to her house and abruptly stopped when she reached her destination. She felt a sudden pain in her left hand, where the strange mark was. She would get an ice pack on it once she got to the kitchen. Beca ascended the brick stairs and opened the door to the loft apartment. She then walked a short distance to the entrance to her house, and stared motionless.

Her front door showed signs of being forcibly removed from its hinges. The door frame was cracked, and the door itself was laying on the ground in front of it. She slowly and quietly made her way through the destroyed entrance and looked around.

The entire loft looked like a tornado swept through it. The couch had been knocked down, every lamp was broken, there were holes in the walls, Sheila's canvases were broken, everything was destroyed and out of place.

_Were we robbed?_ Beca thought. _No, this is too big for a robbery. _

She began to pull out her phone to call Jesse, but then she heard a noise coming from her room. Beca slid her phone back into her pocket and moved carefully to the bedroom. She picked up the closest thing she had, which happened to be a butter knife laying on the floor, amongst other scattered silverware. She gripped the knife in her left hand and kicked open the door to her room. Her mouth dropped.

A dog?

A dog did this?

In front of her stood a growling Rottweiler. Its teeth were bared, and it looked intimidating for a dog. Even though Beca had always loved dogs, she began to back up. The dog growled louder.

All of a sudden, her vision went fuzzy. The dog no longer looked normal; its teeth grew longer, and its eyes were a glowing red.

_What the hell did I drink last night?_

It barked and Beca jumped back. A drop of spit fell from the _thing's_ mouth, and bubbled like acid when it hit the floor. _Okay, now I'm in trouble. _

The dog barked again, and braced itself. It looked as if it was going to—

It pounced.

Immediately, she closed the bedroom door and ran, but the dog was fast. It started beating down the door and it was slowly coming down. She had to think.

Beca ran to the kitchen, reached for the vodka in the top cabinet, and finally got it after overcoming her shortness difficulties. She poured it on the stove and down to the refrigerator.

The door busted open and the two-headed _thing_ came running after her; now it had grown a red and bloody suctioned tentacle. She needed to light the vodka so the oven would explode and the thing would die, but it was taking too long to light. The dog pounced on her.

It snarled on top of her and bared its teeth—which she now noticed were oozing the acid spit. She raised her legs to kick the dog off, but got nowhere. She tried punching it, but that only made it madder. Acid spit dripped onto her neck and chest, and Beca screamed in pain. She reached for the empty vodka bottle on the floor, cursing at herself for not thinking of that beforehand, and hit the dog—_monster_—in the side of the head. It tumbled sideways, giving Beca enough time to scramble backwards, hide behind the fridge door, and try lighting the vodka again. This time it worked.

With the dog using its suction tentacle to reach her, it was unaware of the fire trailing to the stove. And when it did notice, it was too late. The stove caught fire and blew up. Glass scattered everywhere, and the beast itself had blown up with it.

Beca, on the other hand, was safe inside the fridge. Although she blinked in surprise from the impact. She opened the door of the fridge and shakily stepped out.

She took in her new surroundings. There was black ash raining down where the stove once stood, and the dog-thing was a pile of dust and goo. Beca reached for the phone, about to call the police, when she noticed that the dust and goo began to pile together. The dog was reforming.

She didn't know what to do. She was motionless.

The dog was now completely reformed, and it snarled once again.

Beca felt weak, and her arm hurt. There were second-degree burns on her chest and blood ran down her face and arms. Her legs gave out and she crippled to the floor. When the dog pounced, all she could do was watch.

Suddenly, a bright flash of silver sliced the air, taking the dog with it. It yelped, actually sounding like a dog, and disappeared into thin air, only leaving behind a cloud of smoke. Beca didn't even feel the tears running down her face.

When the smoke cleared, a redhead appeared. She was wiping a green, thick liquid off of her blade onto her sleeve. _Wait—was that the dog's blood? Why is it green?_

"W-Who are you? How did you know where to find me? Why did you…" Beca's voice trailed off.

"Usually when someone saves your life, you thank them," she stated, her voice unearthly tranquil. "The name's Chloe. Chloe Fairchild."

"Chloe," said another feminine voice, "she's hurt. A demon bite. Look at her arm."

It was true. Beca had slipped unconscious after she heard the news. The two girls exchanged a glance, but Chloe was the first one to act.

"Stacie, hand me your stele." Chloe took the instrument and began to carve a healing rune, _iratze_, into Beca's arm, near the wound.

"Chlo, what are you doing? Humans can't bear marks—"

"She's not entirely human. She wears the Clairvoyance rune on her left hand whenever she's near danger. I've seen it more than once when I was working my case. And if I'm wrong, or if it doesn't work, she's dead anyway."

When Chloe finished drawing the rune, the two girls lifted the small brunette and carried her out the door.

* * *

Hours later, Beca began to stir, and slowly she raised her heavy eyelids. _Where am I?_ Her senses were gradually coming back as well. She heard a murmuring of voices coming from her left, maybe ten or twenty feet away, she was aware she was in a bed, and, unfortunately, she was also aware of the antagonizing pain seething through her arm. Beca tried putting her head up but regrettably failed when another sharp pain shot through her neck.

"Hey, she's awake," said the redhead from… how long ago? What was her name again? Courtney?

"Where… am I?" asked Beca. "Where's my dad? Who even are you?"

"This is the New York City Institute. It's a refuge for Shadowhunters like us. Like you," the taller one—Stevie? Sammy..?—said. _Okay, so they had a bad acid trip recently and they're using weird lingo from the nineteenth century. Or I'm dreaming. _

"You survived the mark. Which proves you aren't a mundane. I was right," what's-her-face-redhead said.

Beca sat up. "Excuse me? A what?"

"Mundane. Human. Mortal. Muggle, if you're a _Harry Potter _fan."

"Well if I'm not a human then what am I?" Beca asked in disbelief. There was no response. "Look," she cleared her throat. "I appreciate your help, but I really just want to talk to my dad. Is he here? Is my mom here?" _Here, _she repeated in her head. _ Where is 'here'?_

"Rebeca—"

"It's Beca."

"Okay, Beca. I'm Chloe Fairchild, this is Stacie Lightwood," Chloe introduced. She had red hair and bright blue eyes. She looked about 5'5", and she had strange markings covering her arms and a little of her exposed neck. Stacie, on the other hand, was very tall with long, dark brown—maybe even black—hair and brown eyes. She was also covered in the marks. "Your dad isn't here," the two girls said simultaneously.

Beca managed to sit up. "Well, where is he?"

"We can get into all that after you've been taken care of. You need to eat, shower, and put on fresh clothes. Yours are covered in blood."

"No. I want to talk to my dad. Tell him I'm okay. The last time I talked to him he was… telling me not to come home."

Chloe straightened up, like the conversation just intrigued her. "You talked to Jonathan?"

"He goes by John and—wait, _how do you know my father's name?_" Beca raised her voice.

"Research. While trying to find you," said Chloe as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Look, Beca. We can talk to you about all this _after_ you've cleaned up a little. Stacie, get her some clothes. I'll get her something to eat—"

"I'll cook for her. Unless you're trying to poison our guest, then by all means cook your signature spaghetti," said another voice that entered the room. This one was British and masculine. When he came into view, Beca eyed him up and down. He had ruffled blonde hair, chiseled features, and a five o'clock shadow. The tall man was also covered in the weird tattoos. "Name's Luke. Luke Herondale. Welcome to the Institute, mundie."

"Fine," said Chloe. "You cook for her. And she's not a mundane, Luke. Beca, I'll show you to the showers."

_So I guess I have to move now._ Beca faltered with getting up, but managed to do so. Her legs were sore, like she just had a good workout. There were a few places where she could feel bruises that had formed during her slumber. Her arm was still stinging.

_Why does my arm hurt so much?_

She glanced down at the side of her arm and noticed a strange symbol tattooed into her skin.

"Whoa, what the hell is this?" she said, stopping in her tracks and causing everyone to look at her. "I passed out and you guys tattooed me? I thought that only happened in Vegas."

"By the Angel—" Luke sounded annoyed.

"It's not a tattoo," Chloe cut him off. "We'll explain later. You need to clean up first. And eat. This kind of news doesn't settle well on an empty stomach."

* * *

Beca stepped into the shower and allowed for the hot, steaming water to pour down her bare body. It felt good, because she was in so much pain. There were more bruises on her body than there was her normal, pale skin.

She had a lot of unanswered questions for these tattooed-lunatics that are making her shower. All she remembers is being attacked by a vicious, acid-spitting, tentacle-whirling dog and then she was brought here. Hell, she hasn't even gotten _any _explanation for this.

And what about Jesse?

_Oh shit, Jesse!_ Beca was supposed to meet him at Java Jones and—what time is it? What day is it? Was that this morning? Or yesterday? Where was her phone?

She turned off the water and wrapped up in a towel. She glanced at the clothing that hand been left for her: a black tank top, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. _Gee, wonder what the color of choice here is. _she joked to herself.

Once Beca had changed into the dark clothing, she wiped off the fogged mirror and gave a look at herself.

There were no longer bloodstains along the edges of her face, but there was a bruise on her jaw. Her makeup had disappeared in the shower. She hated not wearing makeup.

Beca shuffled through the drawers under the sink and found drug store mascara and eye shadow. She quickly applied the darkest shade to her eyelid and mascara to her eyelashes. _There, _she thought, _much better._

She opened the door and peered down the hallway, but saw no one. Beca exited the bathroom and began making her way towards the stairs she had previously come up.

The walls were painted a dark grey to match the dark wood of the flooring. On these walls hung several weapons, photographs, and quotes. She recognized one from _The Jungle Book_ by Rudyard Kipling.

"_The strength of the Pack is the Wolf_

_And the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."_

Sheila always said that. It even hung in hers and Beca's dad's room.

Beca reached the end of the stairs and came into earshot with familiar voices. She walked towards the voices and found herself in a large kitchen area. The blonde man, Luke, was cooking some dish that used chicken. Chloe and Stacie were engaged in a conversation about something Beca couldn't quite understand. She heard the word 'vampire' many times, however. She loudly cleared her throat, announcing her entry.

"Ah, you're back. Sorry, I was gonna meet you back upstairs, but I didn't know you'd be done this soon," said Chloe.

"That's because your showers take longer than it takes a Behemoth demon to cross the road," Luke joked. Stacie had laughed, earning a glare from Chloe.

The ginger turned back around to Beca, who was still standing at the door. "Don't be scared to come in and sit. You must be hungry."

"Yeah well, it's not every day a dog rips apart your house and no one will tell you where the hell your dad is. It makes it a little hard to trust people, _especially_ ones who talk about bohemian demons," Beca said.

"Behemoth," Luke corrected.

"Whatever."

Luke grabbed four plates from a pantry and set them out on the counter. He then got a big spoon and poured an equal portion of the casserole on all four plates. Grabbing forks from a drawer and matching them with each plate, he handed them out.

"Lunch is served!" he announced. "And, I hope you don't mind leftovers for dinner, mundie. That's how we do things here."

"I live in an apartment in the heart of New York City. I live off of leftovers," Beca sassed. Luke gave her a look, but a smile was creeping at the edge of his mouth. "You didn't poison it did you?"

"Yes. We tracked you down, killed a demon for you, healed you, let you shower in our house and gave you clothes all so we could sprinkle some cyanide on your food," Luke said. _What the hell is he talking about? _Beca thought to herself_. Demons don't even exist._

"Do you enjoy harassing people with sarcasm?"

"It's hardly harassing. In fact, I'm almost disappointed you'd think I would poison you."

Beca eyed him as she took a bite of the chicken and wild rice casserole. Immediately, she felt as if her insides were smiling.

"See, you enjoy my poisonous dish," Luke said without acknowledging her.

* * *

She had tried to ask questions before the meal, but no one had answered. Finally, she was brought over to a living room and sat down in an antique chair with intricate patterns sewn into the fabric.

"Okay," Stacie started. "Before you attack us with more questions, there's one thing you need to know. Everything you've heard about monsters, about nightmares, the legends whispered around campfires, all the stories are true. Truth is, we live in a world with demons and angels. And that 'dog' that attacked you at your apartment? That was a demon. Got it?"

Beca stared in utter bewilderment. "_No, _I definitely don't 'got it'! What the hell? Do you really expect me to believe that? Yeah, sure, the dog thing was a little weird. But I was tired and probably hallucinating. You guys are crazy."

"We aren't crazy Beca. We're Shadowhunters," said Chloe.

"I don't even know what that is."

"Nephilim. Half-human, half-angel warriors created to protect this world from demonic violence. This life, this world, it's all a secret. Which is why it sounds so crazy. It is kept hidden from the vast majority of the mundane world, who do not even know our kind exist, much less the many varieties of monster among whom we are responsible for keeping peace. Jonathan used his blood to create the first race of Shadowhunters, and their gifts were passed on to their children and their children's children and so on. Naturally, the denizens of that world may make a common reference to places and things which you are not yet familiar. We can help familiarize you with—"

"I don't _want_ to be familiarized with this. Any of it. I want to go home. I want my parents, and I want Jesse. I also want my phone. And I want to leave. _Got it?_"

Stacie, Chloe, and Luke exchanged glances. Beca rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I'm leaving. There's an asylum about thirty minutes from Times Square. Go east, if you're interested. And if you ask me, it would be in your best interest to go. Because you're all out of your mind." She started to get up.

"Beca, wait," said Chloe. She stopped and looked at Chloe. "Tell me what you saw."

"What?"

"The dog. What did it look like?"

Beca sat down slowly and began describing the animal that attacked her house. "It was a big Rottweiler with anger issues."

"You know that's not all you saw," Stacie jumped in. Beca looked at her, and then at her hands.

"Okay. At first it looked normal, but then it… changed. Its teeth grew longer and sharper and it had acid spit and… a tentacle. A big, bloody, suction-cup tentacle that pierced me in the arm. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She crossed her arms.

Chloe looked satisfied. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Beca, that was a Ravener demon. You saw it as a dog because it had a glamour. A Ravener demon actually has a squamous black body with a long domed skull like an alligator's. Unlike on an alligator, however, its eyes are in an insectile cluster on the top of its head. It has a vicious, barbed whip tail and a thick snout. Like you said, they possess sharp-fanged teeth that inject poison into your veins when they bite. That's what happened to you. That's why you blacked out. That's _why we brought you here_. The fact that you could withstand a rune from the Gray Book indicates that you belong in this world, in our world. This is where you belong—"

"_NO_!" Beca yelled, standing and backing up a safe distance away from the three Shadowhunters. "None of that is true. My name is Beca Mitchell. I live in reality. I was born and raised in New York City. I'm a junior in high school, and I have a boyfriend who loves me and who I love back. My dad's an English teacher, my mom's a painter. I don't believe in demons, angels, vampires, werewolves, wizards, or whatever else you have in your pretend magical world. It's bullshit. I want my phone, and I want to _leave_."

"And go where?" Luke asked. Beca stared at him with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Back to your apartment? Your destroyed apartment? Beca, it's not safe there."

"I'll live with Jesse. My dad and Sh—"

"Your dad is gone!" Luke yelled. Chloe and Stacie's eyes both widened.

"Luke," Stacie addressed. "You weren't supposed to—"

"What?" Beca's voice cracked. Luke's face turned from anger to sorrow. Beca straightened up and cleared her throat, trying to relax as best as she could with teary eyes. "What do you mean he's _gone_?"

Chloe spoke up this time. "Beca, it's okay."

"No, it's not actually. You won't truthfully answer any of my questions. You keep replying with these bat-shit crazy excuses. Wake _up_. This isn't a fairytale. _Where. Is. My. Dad."_

"He was kidnapped," Chloe exhaled. Beca didn't say anything. She just moved towards the door. "We can help you find him."

"I don't need your help. I'm calling the police."

"_Beca Maryse Mitchell,"_ Stacie spoke.

Beca turned. "How do you know my middle name?"

"It's my mother's name. That is who your father named you after. His best friend. My mother. My full-on, Shadowhunter mother. Your dad is a Shadowhunter. Look at this," Stacie walked towards Beca and handed her a folded piece of paper. Beca eyed her, but accepted the paper.

She unfolded the flimsy material, careful not to rip it, and stared.

It was a picture of her father dressed in all black with a sword in his hand, standing with Sheila who was also in black, a woman who resembled Stacie, and an unfamiliar face. All four of them wore the same black marks that Stacie, Chloe, and Luke had. Beca didn't understand.

"What… is this?" she asked.

"It's a picture from eighteen years ago. A year before you were born. Your dad is a Shadowhunter, Beca. We live in a world with demons and angels. Like it or not, you're in it now. Because if you aren't you won't find your dad."

"What do you mean?"

"Shadowhunters took your dad. Bad Shadowhunters. You won't be able to help your dad in any way, shape, or form unless you let us help you. And to do that, you have to _trust_ and _believe_ in us. To do that, you can't leave."

Beca's knees gave out and she fell on her palms. Shakily, she sat herself down. "Okay," she said. "What do I need to do?"

* * *

Stacie, Chloe, and Luke gave Beca the run-down. She would have to go into training before she was ready to face any of the consequences that lay ahead. She wasn't too thrilled, but she did want to find her dad.

"I want to contact Jesse and my mom," Beca said.

Luke was caught by surprise. "You can't—"

"Okay, no problem," Chloe nodded. "Stacie go get her phone. And Beca, you can't tell Jesse. About this. About any of it."

"Why not?"

"It's not safe for him. Tell him, and you're putting him in harm's way."

Beca began to shiver, slowly understanding what she was saying.

Chloe cleared her throat. "So when you call him—"

"You want me to say goodbye."

Stacie returned within moments with Beca's phone. As soon as Beca was within reach, she grabbed it and started to dial Sheila's number. It rang seven times, but she didn't pick up. She checked the time, it was 11:09 AM. She tried again.

"_Hello?_" said Sheila.

"Mom! It's Beca. Dad, he—"

"_I can't talk to you right now, Beca_."

Beca's voice subsided to a hard whisper. "What?"

"_Whatever problem you have, you're gonna have to deal with it on your own because I'm done helping_." She hung up.

"Hello? Mom?"

No answer.

Beca let the phone drop to the floor, while also letting the tears fall from her eyes.

"Beca? What happened?" asked Chloe.

Beca turned her head. "My mom… she wasn't acting right. She's usually so nice, friendly, always puts others' needs before her own but… I don't know." She shook her head in disbelief. "I want to talk to Jesse in person."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Luke.

"I don't care. I can't," her voice broke, "I can't break up with him… through text. I'll do it in person or I won't do it. And then when it's over, I want to go to Sheila's art gallery and library a few blocks from my house. I want to see if she's okay."

"You're gonna need to gear up first, just in case," Chloe said. "I'll take you to the weapon room. Everyone get ready. Meet by the door in ten minutes."

* * *

Chloe led Beca down a hallway near stairs leading up to another floor after Stacie and Luke disappeared into their bedrooms. She pulled out a key from her pocket and unlocked the secret keyhole behind a painting on the side of the staircase.

"Secret room behind the staircase? Really?" Beca inquired.

"Don't pretend like this is the strangest thing you've seen today."

She pulled back the door and white stones illuminated the room, which turned out to be a lot bigger than Beca thought. There were axes, guns, swords, daggers, knives, whips, crossbows, and any weapon one could think of.

"What are these?" Beca asked, picking up one of the alabaster-looking stones from inside the lamp.

"Witchlight. White stones with runes carved into them to create an angelic light. It burns the skin of anything dark or demonic. Also, they look nice as decoration," Chloe informed. "I assume since you are accustomed to modern-day weapons you would probably prefer a gun and a knife, rather than a sword or anything else."

"I don't know how to use a gun. I've never really wielded any weapon before."

"It's simple," Chloe said, grabbing one of the guns from the shelves. Up close, Beca could see that it wasn't built to contain bullets. "This is a vampire gun. Cock it," she pulled the lever back, "and pull the trigger." When she did, a sharp metal rod stuck out, blades coming from all sides, and twisting. "You try." Chloe handed the gun to Beca.

"I don't…"

"It's okay. it won't hurt you if you do it properly."

Beca cocked the gun and pulled the trigger with a little hesitation. The gun did what it did when Chloe used it.

"See? Not too scary. Now, let's find you a few daggers."

* * *

Beca, Stacie, Luke, and Chloe all met at the door, as promised. Beca complained that she didn't want Jesse seeing her like this, but she was then informed that his human eyes wouldn't be able to see any of the rune-carved weapons. She checked her phone; it was 11:59 AM. _Meet me for coffee at Java Jones in the afternoon, _she had texted him right before she went to her house this morning. Right before the attack. It broke her heart knowing she may never get coffee with him ever again. She clutched the _SM_ necklace and closed her eyes, remembering his scent, his touch, the feel of his skin, the curls of his hair, the brown orbs of his eyes. This would be the last time she could see him.

"Beca, you're crying. Are you okay?" asked Stacie. Beca snapped back into reality, wiping the tears off of her face.

"Me? Yeah, I'm okay. Just… miss my dad." It was half-true.

Stacie put a hand on Beca's knee and smiled. "We'll find him."

They arrived at Jesse's house, and suddenly Beca felt a knot at the base of her stomach. It sent chills up and down her spine repetitively. Stacie had offered to go with her, but Beca decided it would be better if she went alone.

She knocked on the door and waited.

Jesse's mom answered the door. "Beca! How are you, dear?" she greeted, pulling Beca into a strong hug. Jesse's mom was a tall woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes. Her smile was warm and welcoming, and Beca had always liked her.

"I'm great," she lied. "Where's Jesse?"

"Upstairs. I'll get him. _JESSE!" _she called from the foot of the steps. There was a clash and clang and Jesse came running down the stairs. "I'll leave you two be." Mrs. Swanson closed the front door, leaving Beca and Jesse on the front porch, alone.

"Hey Becs. Everything all right? I was in the middle of getting ready to go to Java—"

"We need to talk, Jesse," Beca spoke. There were tears flooding her eyes, so she looked away from Jesse. They sat on the stairs.

"What about?"

This time, tears came pouring out of her eyes and suddenly she was crying like a baby. She hugged Jesse, and he let her cry into his shoulder.

"Beca," he rubbed circles on her back. "Bec, what's wrong?"

Beca sniffled and wiped her cheeks, turning her head so she was looking directly at Jesse. "I have to leave."

Jesse looked confused. "What?"

"I have to leave. I can't… I can't stay here. Something came up. I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Beca, you don't have to go anywhere. What makes you think that you have to leave?" he asked. Beca said nothing, just held her face in her hands. "Is it your dad?"

Beca lifted her head and nodded. "But not in the way you think."

"Tell me what's going on. You can tell me what's going on Beca."

"No, I can't. And I think we would both be better off on our own. I'm sorry, I have to go." She sat there for a minute, kissed his cheek, stood up and walked away as quickly as she could. She left him. She was never going to see him again. And that hit her like a truck.

He watched her walk away. He watched the love of his life walk away from him, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop her because she wouldn't tell him what was going on and he knew better than to push her. It felt like a piece of him had just walked away with her. He felt utterly empty, as did she.

Beca went and caught up with the others, who were waiting behind a shrubbery the next house over. She didn't even bother holding in her tears. She sank to the ground where her back was rubbed and her tears were wiped off of her face. She sat there and cried. All she wanted to do was lay in bed and close her eyes, maybe even not wake up. No, she didn't want that. What she really wanted was to go back and apologize to Jesse, and then get coffee. But that could never happen.

"_Beca."_ Luke's words were like an echo in her head. _"To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed."_

* * *

Three Years Later, To The Day

It had been three years. Three years since she had seen her mom, dad, or Jesse. And now, Beca Mitchell was a sworn badass of the Nephilim. Three years ago, she would have never imagined this life. A life of battle, bloodshed, death, and excitement. Her favorite part? The adrenaline rush that was present right before, during, and after a fight with a demon. It sent tingles throughout her body. It was the best feeling in the world.

She now wore the runes like all the other Shadowhunters. They covered her arms, stomach, back, and parts of her chest, neck, and legs. It was as if she had never been a different person. It was as if she had always been a Shadowhunter.

She pulled out her stele, a magical object much like a pen without a point that allowed her to carve runes into her body, and began tracing a Visible rune on the inside of her forearm, making her visible to others. Shadowhunters, normally invisible to mundanes, always had to use this rune when going shopping or ordering takeout. In this case, it was the latter.

Beca entered Taki's with the swift movements of the Nephilim, aware of the guys staring at her. Beca, Chloe, Stacie, and Luke had just finished an important mission to steal faerie rings from a demon-guarded cave. The two faerie rings allowed for the two wearing them to be able to communicate through thought, no matter the range. They now lay in the showcase in the hallway of the New York Institute.

The three had sent Beca to pick up the takeout from Taki's, because it was her birthday. It actually made no sense, but she was in too good a mood to refuse.

"Order for Beca!" the waiter, who was familiar with Beca, called out. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks Jonah." Beca smiled. She grabbed the food and walked out of the restaurant, but just her luck, some clumsy idiot bumped into her, making her drop the food.

"Dammit," she said.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," said the stranger. "I can pay for…" He lifted his head up as Beca did. His mouth gaped open.

"Jesse?"

* * *

**A/N: Fair warning, most of the chapters won't be this long. There was just a lot of information that had to be said before this story could get going. **

**Tell me what you think of it so far! I really enjoy writing it. **


	2. Memories

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 2: Memories**

**A/N: Nephilim is just another word for Shadowhunters. Just for your information. Stele is pronounced like (stell-ayy), not steel. Also, a Clairvoyance rune (AKA Voyance rune) appears on a Shadowhunter's writing hand (in this case, Beca's left hand) at a young age. However, in this chapter we will see why Beca did not notice hers until she was seventeen. This rune focuses the Sight, giving the wearer extrasensory perception, allowing the Shadowhunter to see past glamour. A parabatai is basically a best friend, but the two are bound by a Parabatai rune. If one dies, the other literally feels it. Runes tend to be stronger if drawn by your parabatai. If you have not familiarized yourself with runes yet, I recommend doing so…**

* * *

Three Years Back, Beca's 17th Birthday

"We're going to my mom's gallery. Now," Beca commanded.

Beca hated crying in front of others, which is why she wiped her tears and pretended like nothing happened.

Luke, Stacie, Chloe, and Beca were now driving to Sheila's library/gallery. Only thirty minutes ago, Beca called Sheila, but didn't get the reaction she wanted. Of course, with everything that has happened today, Sheila could be in danger. Real danger. Shadowhunter danger.

Never in a million years would Beca had thought she would be on her way to Sheila's library, wearing all black, a gun strapped to her thigh and daggers along her belt. But here she was, doing exactly that.

On the way there, Stacie tried making small talk. "So, Beca," she turned towards the small brunette. "Do you have any questions?"

"I have a lot of questions," Beca replied.

"Anything in particular?"

Beca thought for a moment, trying to think of one of her really good questions. "What's the history of this rune? I mean, why did it just appear when I turned seventeen?" She pointed to the Clairvoyance rune on the back of her left hand.

Stacie furrowed her brow. "Well, normally, that rune appears when a Shadowhunter is young. Like really young. We're talking age six to ten. It gives you the power to see past the glamour, which is the thing that prevents mundanes from seeing what's really there. I don't know why you got it so late. Maybe it's because you weren't introduced to anything demonic or angelic until yesterday."

"Or maybe it's because she has a block on her mind," Luke said.

"Why would you think that?" Chloe asked.

"Come on, seriously? You know the story Maryse always tells us. Her "friend" stole the Mortal Cup from Lexa Morgenstern. Her unnamed friend. I think that could have been Beca's dad. And that explains why he kept Beca hidden from this life. He needed to keep her safe, because she'd make a good hostage if Lexa ever found him. Surely Beca would have been exposed to something out of the ordinary. And he would've hidden it somehow. A block is the easiest way to do it."

"Define easy," said Chloe. Luke made a face at her.

"So let me get this straight. You think that in some way, somehow, my dad suppressed my memories? With _magic_?" Beca asked, dumbfounded.

"More than likely he had someone else do it," Stacie corrected. "You may know where the Cup is, but you don't know you know. It makes sense. And if we can find the Cup before Lexa—"

"What is this 'Cup' anyway? Why is it so important? And who is Lexa?" Beca interrupted.

Luke spoke up this time. "The Mortal Cup. One of the three Mortal Instruments. Crafted by pure _adamas._ Jonathan Shadowhunter used his blood to create the first race of Shadowhunters in 1234. All hell could break loose if it fell into the wrong hands. But if you could somehow locate it in your memory…" His voice trailed off. "Lexa is a powerful Shadowhunter that experimented on herself with demon blood. She can control them, and have them do her biddings. She—"

"How many warlocks do you know that live in Brooklyn?" asked Stacie as turned towards Luke.

He rolled his eyes. He hated being interrupted. "There's Alther, but he never does anything for everyone. He gets high off of that silver faerie stuff too often. Umm, I think Luka was only here for about a year. Magnus…"

"Magnus?" Beca asked. "I've heard that name before."

"He's the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He's a bit self-absorbed, however. I highly doubt he'd be willing to use a spell as powerful as that one on any normal Shadowhunter," said Luke.

"Maybe she's not just a normal Shadowhunter," Chloe concluded.

* * *

The four Shadowhunters arrived at the library in record time. It was a two story building, half being the library and the other half being the gallery. It also had a basement, but Beca never went down there. Sheila always said, "It's just a bunch of useless, dusty crap that won't sell."

Beca pulled on the front door, but it was locked.

"What? It's never locked. They should be open. It's only, what, noon?" Beca stated. The other three exchanged glances, but said nothing to Beca as she continued to pull the door. "Aren't there any _Unlocking Door_ runes?"

"It doesn't really work like that," said Stacie.

"Okay, we can try the back entrance."

The back entrance, surprisingly, was open. It was never used very often, so when Beca pulled it open, it squeaked against its rusty hinges and let off clouds of dust.

Beca was about to walk in, but Chloe held out her arm and stopped her. Luke went first, always. Once he was in, he signaled the other three.

The first floor was full of books stacked on shelves and chairs and tables lining along the wall. The air was tinged with a foul stench.

"Demons were here recently," Chloe inquired.

"I don't think they were actual demons. The smell is off. It had to be something else, mixed with demonic blood," Luke whispered. There was a crash coming from their left, in the direction of the door to the basement. "And I think that, whatever it was, is still here." He took out his stele and began to carve a rune into his ankle.

"Which one's that?" Beca asked quietly.

"Soundless rune," said Chloe. "We should all have one."

"I don't know if I…"

"It'll be fine Beca. It only stings a little bit." With that, Chloe magicked out her stele and drew a rune on Beca's ankle, identical to Luke's. She did the same to Stacie, and then Stacie drew one on Chloe. Beca watched them.

"Why don't you just draw one on yourself? Is it bad luck or something?" Beca asked Chloe and Stacie.

"No, she's my parabatai. If a rune is drawn on you by your parabatai, it happens to be stronger," Chloe informed.

"A wha—" Beca started.

"Can we talk about this later?" Luke snapped in a whisper-yell. "We have a mission to do."

They travelled towards the slightly ajar door that led to the basement, Luke first, then Chloe, Beca, and Stacie had the rear. Luke opened the door all the way, glancing down before beginning the descent. The stairs were steep, and would have been creaking if it were not for the Soundless runes on each of their ankles. Halfway down the steps, Beca began to hear shuffling voices. Luckily, there was a giant bookcase at the foot of the staircase that prevented anyone from seeing them.

They reached the bottom and stood behind the bookcase, looking through it to see if there was anything to see. The voices were clearer now, two dominant masculine ones, but it didn't sound like they were talking to each other. There had to be someone else.

"The girl will show up eventually," said the first voice. He had a raspy English accent. "Master will be delighted to talk to her. Even more pleased to kill her." Beca heard the rattling of chains.

"Unless you want to do something about it, Graymark," said the other voice. This one also had an English accent too, but it was deeper.

"I won't do _shit _for her anymore. Don't you see? I'm sick of this life," said the third voice, feminine and familiar. Sheila.

"I don't believe you," said the first voice again.

"Your loss."

That earned Sheila a slap to the face. Since she was bound to a chair by chains, all she could do was turn her head. She slowly looked back at the two captors, her eyes changing into a bright amber, and she growled.

"You like that? You seem to. I want to see you change, Sheila Graymark. _Change._"

The hair on Sheila's arms started growing and darkening, while the amber in her eyes glowed brighter. Her nails grew longer, pointier, and turned black like claws. The two men smiled. Beca noticed that they too were covered in Marks.

"What's happening to her?" Beca whispered. No one answered, they just stared.

"We have to get out of here, those are Lexa's men," Luke said.

"No, we aren't leaving my mom."

"You don't understand. She's already dead, Beca."

As if she wasn't already hurting. Those words nearly killed her. "I'm not leaving her…," Beca finished. "You can leave if you're so terrified of this Lexa girl. I don't care. I'm not leaving without her."

Luke stared at Beca, and then at Chloe and Stacie. The two girls nodded, and then all three looked at Beca. "All right," said Luke. Beca smiled as much as she could manage. Luke and Stacie quietly made their way to the other side of Sheila and the captors, hiding behind bookcases in order to not be seen. Chloe stayed with Beca.

Sheila had returned to her normal self, but there were scratches along her cheek and neck where she was hit. She was staring at her captors with pure hatred. "You don't get it, do you?" Sheila started. "I don't give a shit about what happens to Rebeca. I've put up with the little brat and her ignorant father for almost seventeen years! I'm done helping them. I'm not even her biological mother. All I did was raise her, and pretend to love her while she hasn't done anything for me. I'm _done._"

Beca drew in a silent breath, tears falling from her eyes as Sheila spoke the words. Then, her knees give out, and she fell to the floor, knocking books over in her wake.

Immediately, the two intimidating Shadowhunters looked in her direction, and Beca ducked.

"And who might you be?" said the one with the deeper voice as he began walking in Beca's direction. It was Chloe who acted. She jumped out in front of the bookcase and swung a leg into the man's groin. He yelped and tried to punch Chloe in the face, but she was faster. She blocked it and elbowed him on top of his shoulder, and he fell to the ground.

Luke went after the other one, a long blade in his hand. He swung his sword at the man, but he too had a sword. He whipped it out right as Luke's sword was about to hit him. The two men engaged in a sword fight, but it was way more realistic than the ones Beca had seen on television.

Beca noticed Chloe had fallen to the ground and looked as if she were knocked unconscious. A big bruise was forming on the side of her forehead down to her cheekbone. Stacie acted without thinking, and was knocked over by the man. Still on the ground, she flung her gold, coiled whip at the man who knocked Chloe unconscious. It wrapped around his leg and Stacie pulled it, causing him to lose his balance and fall over as well.

A small knife buried itself into the man's leg and he cried out in pain. Stacie, taken aback, looked over and saw Beca standing a few feet away with another knife in her hand. She had a devilish grin on her face. She didn't even know she could do that.

"_Beca_?" said Sheila. Beca turned her head and frowned. _You're mad at her Beca, _she thought to herself. _She betrayed you and your father._

She walked over to the blonde. "Don't think that I've forgiven you, Mom. Or should I even call you that?" said Beca, scowling.

"Sweetheart, I had to say what I had to say—"

"I don't want to hear it," she concluded. She looked at the chains that wrapped around Sheila's body, binding her to the chair. There wasn't even a lock to undo them. Suddenly, Beca got an idea. She kicked at the fallen man's face, hard. He turned over on his side, wallowing in pain and Beca took his sword. She sliced Sheila's chains. "Now get up," she commanded.

"Beca, honey, you're crying," Sheila said, reaching out a hand to wipe the tears away. Beca slapped her hand.

"Is it true?" Beca asked. "Are you really not my biological mom?"

Sheila looked down at her hands. "No, I'm not. But—"

"Jesus Christ. Was anything you and my dad told me… was anything _true_? How old was I supposed to get before you told me who I really was?"

"We wanted to keep you safe, Beca. That's all we ever wanted—"

"That's bullshit. You sat there and told those men—"

"BECA!" Chloe shouted. Beca turned to see a dagger flinging towards her. She dodged it, dropping to the side. She watched as Stacie coiled her whip around the knife-thrower's neck and pulled it. The whip gave off an electric-looking shock, and the man crumpled to the ground, dying at Stacie's hand.

Beca sucked in a breath. She had never witnessed a murder before. She noticed the other man had fallen and died also, with a deep gash along his chest.

"Beca…" Sheila said, staring at nothing, but looking straight ahead. Beca turned around to look at her and noticed the dagger that was meant for her was plunged into the middle of Sheila's upper chest. Beca and Sheila made eye contact, and Sheila fell to the floor. Beca managed to catch her before her head made contact.

"_MOM!_" Beca shouted, tears falling from her eyes. Sheila was breathing heavy and uneven and she was staring up at the ceiling. "Mom. Mom, _look at me_. You're okay. You're gonna be okay." Beca was now sobbing, struggling to breathe because her nose was stuffed. "You're okay."

Sheila drew out her hand and stroked Beca's hair. "I really… didn't… mean it." Her voice was shaking. "What I… said. It was just to… keep you safe…"

"You're a Shadowhunter, we can give you a healing rune. Right?" Beca turned towards Luke, but he shook his head. "Why _not_?"

"She's not a Shadowhunter, Beca," Luke said.

"But the picture…"

"He's right, Beca," Sheila said, causing Beca to look back at her. "I'm not a Shadowhunter… anymore. I'm a… a werewolf." Her breathing sped up. "I love you and I always… will. And your… your father." And then she stopped breathing, and her skin was as cold as ice.

"_NO!"_ Beca screamed. "I already lost Jesse today… you are not dying!" She shook her and shook her, but there was no response. Beca started crying again, and laid her head against Sheila's chest, next to the wound. "God_dammit_!" she screamed again. She hastily pulled the dagger out and threw it into the wall, where it stuck. Blood splattered onto the wall. Sheila's blood.

Stacie, Chloe, and Luke all stared in horror. Chloe leaned down and started rubbing Beca's back, but stopped when Beca sat up straight and yelled, "Get_ off_ of me!"

And for what felt like hours, Beca cried against Sheila. Her mother, no matter what.

Stacie whispered to Luke and Chloe. "We should get Beca back to the Institute. We can call Magnus to get her memories—"

"No," Beca said, turning her head towards the other three. "I don't want to. I don't want my memories back. I don't want to help my dad. He's the reason this is happening. This is his_ fault_."

"Beca…" Chloe frowned.

"Take me back to the Institute. We're done here."

* * *

Present Time

"Beca?" Jesse stared at his ex-girlfriend.

Jesse and Beca were both 20 now, but they looked as if they hadn't aged a day. Beca was still as short as ever, but she was covered in strange tattoos, and she had visible scars. From what, Jesse didn't know.

"I thought… I thought you left. Your dad's been missing for years. Your mom was found dead. Everyone thought all three of you were dead. But—"

"Jesse," Beca spoke, her voice full of amazement and despair. She never thought she would see him again, but all of her feelings for him were rushing back with immense speed. "I'm sorry if you were scared for me, and—"

"_Scared_ _for you_? Beca, I was terrified. You came to my house and told me you were leaving, then your dad was pronounced missing and Sheila was found _dead_. I didn't go to school for a month. I had to repeat the semester over summer. My grades plummeted. I couldn't think straight. Beca, you nearly _killed_ me."

Beca felt her tears surface and fall. It was then she realized she still loved him. She loved him with all her heart. But he hated her.

"Jesse, I'm sorry I had to leave you. I had to keep you safe."

"What the hell does that even mean? What happened to you? Where did you go? _Why_ are you covered in weird black marks?"

"It's a long story, I—"

"Well, I have time," he stated.

"Well, I _don't,_" Beca raised her voice. "I'm not gonna sit here and defend myself while you wallow in your hatred for me. I just came here for lo main and sweet and sour chicken, and then I was going back."

"Going back? You came all the way to New York City just for lo main?"

"No, I…"

He waited for her to finish her sentence, but then realized it. "You still live here, don't you? You lived here all this time and you didn't even call, text, visit, anything? I can't believe this. You let me—"

"Shut _UP_!" she yelled, causing everyone in the restaurant to look at the two of them. She grabbed his hand and led him outside the restaurant and into an empty alley. "You think you were the only one hurting? You think it didn't kill me to leave you? You think I didn't have a reason? You're _wrong_. I lost three people in one day. I lost _everything. _My old life, my friends, my family… you. I lost all of it. It was all torn away from me, and I watched it happen. I watched as you didn't chase after me. I watched Sheila _die_. I—"

Jesse shut her up by pressing a hard kiss to her lips, backing her up against the brick wall of the narrow alley. She kissed him back with equal passion and force. He deepened the kiss when she parted her lips, digging his tongue inside her mouth. And then he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers.

"I missed you, Beca. I'm sorry," he panted.

"I missed you too, Jesse." He smiled and so did she, but hers faded faster. "But I can't stay with you. I have to go home."

"Why? Where even is your home now?" Jesse pondered, anger threatening to rise up in his voice.

"I—I can't Jesse… I can't do this. I have to go. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned the corner and ran. She didn't even get her food as she raced back towards the Institute. Jesse stopped at the corner, and watched as she ran across the street, leaving him for the second time.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, enough with the flashbacks, I know. Just had to get some information in. So now we know why Beca hasn't seen her dad or Sheila or Jesse in three years. I started writing the next chapter already, oops.**

**Please review! :)**


	3. Valediction

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 3: Valediction **

**A/N: Ahh it finally snowed here! Thank you… whichever winter storm this is! Winter break 3.0. **

**Also, I apologize to my readers who are waiting for the next update of What Happened After and/or With All My Heart. I can't get this story out of my head and it is preventing me from focusing on my other stories!**

* * *

"Hey Stacie?" Beca called, entering the library. The library was one of Beca's favorite places inside the Institute, even though she wasn't much of a reader. The double-doors opened up to a platform with a staircase on both sides, leading down to black and white marble flooring and various tables and display cases. It had high archways and a dazzling, witchlight-lit chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. Just in front of the enormous, arched window, there was a statue of the Angel Raziel holding the Mortal Cup, the angel who had given his blood to Jonathan Shadowhunter and played a key role in creating the first race of Shadowhunters. The walls were lined with hundreds and hundreds of books ranging from storybooks to demon literature, or as Beca liked to call it, _Fighting Demons 101._

"Over here!" Stacie shouted from behind a pile of books. Without Maryse Lightwood here to clean up after everyone, the library was beginning to look like a mess. Beca trotted down the left staircase and found Stacie with no makeup, reading a cookbook.

"What are you doing?" Beca laughed.

"My cooking skills have not gotten any better over the twenty-two-year span of my life, so I'm doing some light reading."

Beca lifted up the book, which contained at least 600 pages. "Light?"

Stacie looked up at her through her reading glasses and scowled. She looked younger without all the makeup. Her face was more round, and her eyes looked bigger.

"What do you want, Becs?"

"I have a question, and it's a little personal so if you don't—"

"Ask away," she commanded.

Beca gave her a sideways glance, and then looked down at her own hands. "Have you ever been in love?"

Stacie nearly dropped the cookbook. "What?"

"I told you it was a little personal…" Beca instinctively scratched the back of her neck.

"No, it's fine. Um, no, I haven't. I'm more into hookups and one night stands, you know, that sort of thing. Why?"

Beca held onto her SM necklace and tensed. "Nothing, never mind."

"You're thinking about Jesse, aren't you?" Stacie inquired. That was the thing about her. She could always read people, even if you didn't want to be read. She had a talent that could outsmart the main characters in _Now You See Me._

"I saw him earlier today," Beca confessed. "At Taki's. I lost it, Stace. I felt… numb."

Stacie frowned. "Numb?"

"I don't know how else to explain it. I saw him, and I couldn't feel anything. It was like I had jumped into a bucket of ice-cold water. But I could feel… my heart… beating. Like it was about to jump out of my chest. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy."

"You aren't crazy," she said. "Are you still in love with him?"

"What? No. I mean, maybe. I mean, I don't know. How could that be possible? It's been three years…"

"Sometimes, people don't get over the love they lost." Stacie's hand moved to Beca's shoulder. "And Nephilim—we do tend to love very overwhelmingly. To fall in love only once, to die of grief over love—my old tutor use to say that the hearts of Nephilim were like the hearts of angels: They felt every human pain, and never healed."

"But you don't fall in love. How do you just _not_ do that?"

"Just because I haven't yet, doesn't mean I'm incapable. I just simply detach myself from anything that could emotionally hurt me," she said, as if it were the most normal thing ever.

"How?"

Stacie gave her a look of sympathy. "Beca, I'm not going to tell you that. I don't want your heart going to waste." She pulled Beca into a big, comforting hug. When she pulled away, Beca was crying. "Becs…"

"I feel like how I did when I left him… three years ago. Part of me wants to go on a demon-killing spree, and a bigger part of me wants to go to my room and sob for hours. It's just not fair, because I can't do either." Beca sighed and wiped her tears. "This is _not_ how I planned to spend my birthday." Stacie gave her a look of disapproval.

"Well," Stacie started. "You can't just sit here and do nothing. What are you gonna do?"

* * *

Jesse nearly sprinted home after the kiss, because he knew he couldn't follow her. She was already gone. It was funny, he didn't even remember her being able to run that fast.

He was struggling with his keys so much that he dropped them onto the ground of the space in front of his apartment. He banged his head on the front door and slammed his foot on the ground, accidently stepping on the keys. Jesse stooped, only to find that his house key was broken. _Great,_ he thought._ Just great._

Jesse pulled out his phone and began texting his roommate, Benji, to see when he'd be home, but stopped when he heard his voice.

"Hey you're back!" said Benji. He had curly light brown hair and brown eyes. Sideburns. His striped shirt was tucked into his jeans. Jesse, despite being a bit more flirtatious with the ladies, and much calmer and cooler, loved the guy and thought of him as a brother. "Wait, where's the takeout?"

Jesse tensed, and Benji noticed.

"Hey man, you okay?" he asked.

Jesse and Benji had been roommates for about a year and a half now, both attending Barden University in Manhattan, New York. The apartment complex was only about a ten minute drive away from his mom's house, and he could have easily stayed home and attended Barden, but Jesse decided he wanted his own place with a fresh start.

The two friends entered their two-bedroom apartment, complete with a kitchen and living area. Jesse sat down on the couch, elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing his face.

"What is it, man?" Benji asked, setting a glass of water down for him. Jesse silently thanked him.

Jesse cleared his throat, although it didn't help the dryness in his voice, dancing on his tongue like a taunting reminder of his ex-girlfriend. "Do you remember when I told you about Beca?"

"Of course. What about her?"

Jesse laid against the back of the couch. Benji's expression sympathetically saddened over the thought of his best friend being heartbroken again. "I saw her today. Only minutes ago. She looked the same, Benji. But she was… different."

"Wait, what? I thought she…," his voice trailed off.

"Yeah, me too."

Benji straightened up. "Well, what did you do?" he asked. Jesse placed a hand over his mouth, the pads of his fingers running along his bottom lip. He smiled.

"I kissed her."

"_What_?"

"And she kissed me. And then she took off."

"Did you go after her?" Benji was trying to get as much detail out of him as possible.

"No. I couldn't have. You should've seen her. She ran faster than light itself. I've never seen anything like it. She could outrun a cheetah. And she had these really weird black tattoo things." Jesse took deep gulp of water. "Dammit, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. A more important question, however, is, what are you going to do about it?"

He contemplated for a moment. "I don't know."

* * *

The New York Institute for Shadowhunters was completely hidden to everyone that was incapable of seeing past the glamour. Through a mundane's eyes, it looks like an old gothic cathedral mostly in ruins. However, it is really a tall, stone-built, castle-looking refuge run by Maryse Lightwood, Stacie's mother. She was currently away on patrol with Robert Lightwood, Stacie's father.

The Institute could provide safety to over 200 Shadowhunters; it was that big. It is one of the greatest glamour's someone could create. So, it wasn't much of a surprise to Beca that Jesse had ran right past it on his morning run.

She watched him run in a grey hoodie, with the hood up, and basketball shorts. She knew it was him; he always ran at six in the morning on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. And she got him that hoodie. Part of her wanted to go run after him; with a speed rune, Beca would have no problem catching up. Another part of her knew that she shouldn't.

After her talk with Stacie yesterday, Beca knew for sure that she was still in love with him. It seemed impossible; she had survived three years without him. But there was a part of her, and she didn't know how dominant that part may be, that wanted him more than anything. Beca _had _to do something.

It was 6:09 AM, and the sun was about to rise, causing the sky to be a dark yet light blue. She changed clothes, putting on black jeans and a long sleeve, baby blue sweater that hid most of her Marks. She strapped an angelic blade to her belt, just in case. Beca took out her blue and gold-trimmed stele and drew a Speed rune and a Visibility rune on herself. It would take her approximately five minutes to get to Jesse's house. Without wasting a moment, Beca ran out of her room and out the front door.

* * *

She reached Jesse's house, about to knock on the front door, then realized something. She couldn't face his mom. Not today. She contemplated her options; wait until the door was unlocked, or crawl through his window. She went with the latter. Beca went to the side of the house and began climbing the convenient tree near his window. After a few steps, she was eye level with the window, buts still a good four feet away from it. _You can be as light as you want to be,_ she heard Luke's voice in the back of her head. With that, Beca closed her eyes and jumped.

She clung onto the pane, silently thanking her Shadowhunter abilities and strength. She fixed her grip, slid open the window and climbed in, only to find that Jesse's room was not Jesse's room anymore. The bed frame was there, but there was no bed and his closet had been emptied.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Beca heard a whispered voice. Behind the open door, a little girl resembling Jesse appeared, clutching a toy bunny tight to her chest. Samantha, Jesse's 11 year-old sister. "Beca?"

"Sammy!" Beca smiled, her voice quiet. The little Swanson grinned widely, showing braces that had not been there when Beca left three years ago. "Shh, we have to be quiet. Where's Jesse?"

"Jesse? He—he doesn't live here anymore. He moved into an apartment with Benji."

_Who is Benji? _Beca thought. "Do you know the address?"

Samantha moved to the empty desk and drew out a piece of paper and pencil from the drawer. She scribbled something down and handed the paper to Beca. "I think that's it."

"Thank you, Sammy. It means a lot." Beca brought the little girl into a big hug.

"One question," Samantha said. "Did you climb through the window?"

Beca laughed. "Yeah, I did." She reopened the window and jumped out, rolling over to distribute the weight and then landing on all fours. She stood up and clapped her hands together. "Later, Sam."

The little girl stood wide-mouthed, watching as Beca ran down the street.

* * *

Beca arrived at the apartment complex little ways from the Institute in under five minutes, thanks to her Speed rune. She unfolded the piece of paper Samantha wrote her and read it again. Apartment 32C. Third floor. Beca ran up the steps with haste and stopped when she reached the third floor. Her Speed rune had worn off now, and she was feeling slightly tired. She could use some water.

She confidently walked towards the door of 32C, then hesitated. What if he didn't want to see her? What if he was still mad? Beca was so lost in thought that she didn't realized the door had opened.

"Can I help you?" asked a polite, male voice that didn't sound like Jesse. He waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you okay?"

Beca snapped back into reality. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Um, does a guy named Jesse live here?"

"Uh, yes. He's on a run."

"I'll wait for him," Beca said, inviting herself in by ducking under his arm and slipping into the room. He hastily turned around to face the short brunette who had just entered his apartment.

"Wait, you can't just barge in here! I don't even know who—"

"My name is Beca," she interrupted. The man tensed. Beca noticed, raising an eyebrow. "And you are?"

He hesitated before saying, "B-Benji. I'm Benji." He held out his hand. Beca eyed it suspiciously, then shook it.

"You're the one Sam told me about. You're Jesse's roommate."

"And you're Jesse's ex-girlfriend." The tension between the two grew, but Beca shook it off by breaking eye contact. "Sorry," Benji apologized. "I didn't mean to title you."

"No, it's fine. You probably got that title from Jesse anyway." Beca walked over to the clear glass door that opened up to a small balcony and stared out.

"I—Um, can I get you anything? You know, while you wait?"

"I'd love some water," she said without turning around. "With ice, please." Beca turned and sat on the leather couch, which was comfier than it looked. The room smelled like stale popcorn, given proof that Jesse watches most of his movies in there.

Benji returned and set the glass down on a coaster, sitting on the other couch adjacent to the one she was on. "Cool tattoo," he said, pointing to her exposed collarbone. She pulled her sweater up and gave him a brief smile.

"Your shoes are on," Beca pointed out. "Did I interrupt you leaving?"

"It's fine. Jesse will be back soon and I can leave then. I wouldn't want to leave you alone here." Benji noticed the change of air. "Wait, I didn't mean—"

"Again, it's fine. I know what you meant. But—"

"Beca," breathed a voice. Beca turned and her eyes bulged. She stood up. At the foot of the doorstep stood a tall, familiar man with sweat-filled brown hair and brown eyes.

"Jesse." She matched his tone.

"That's my cue," Benji said quietly, getting up and closing the front door behind him.

For minutes the two just stared at each other, wondering who would make the first move. Jesse broke the ice.

"How have you been?" he asked. Beca exhaled.

"How have I been? Interesting word choice."

"There's the Beca I know." Jesse smiled, taking a step towards Beca. She stepped back.

"Listen, Jesse—"

"What? What now?"

Beca stared at him. She immediately remembered their first fight.

* * *

It was the third month of them dating, and Beca had just gotten in her first serious argument with her dad about Jesse. Instinctively, Dr. Mitchell didn't really like or care for Jesse because he was his daughter's first boyfriend. Jesse noticed she was a bit off the entire day, and kept bugging her about it. He walked her home, but she insisted he let her go before they got to the door of her apartment. Jesse stayed back as told, but decided to wait until she was inside to leave, and was still in earshot when Beca's dad opened the door for his daughter.

"Why are you home so late?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I was with Jesse. We walked—"

"Of _course _you were with Jesse. You're _always _with Jesse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know what high-schoolers do. If you think it is even the least bit acceptable for you to be messing around with guys at your age, it's not."

"Dad! I'm not! I can't believe you would even _think _that!"

Jesse, much to Beca's surprise, had walked up to the two bickering family members. "Dr. Mitchell, I promise, we're not hooking up—"

"Jesus Christ, that's perfect, of course you're here right now. I don't need your help okay, can you back off?" she snapped at Jesse. He looked at her with hurt in his eyes, but she didn't see it because she had already stormed past her dad and into the house. Beca's dad instantaneously closed the door and chased after his daughter, leaving Jesse alone in the hallway.

* * *

Now here they were, almost five years later, and he felt the same way he did when that door was slammed in his face.

He took another step forward and before she could react, his lips met hers. Her breath smelled of mint, and her lips were as soft as always. Beca made no note of discomfort, so he deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips. She wrapped her hands around his neck and rocked her body against his. Jesse's hands trailed from her waist to the small of her back, and finally down to her butt. She pulled back her lips and rested her forehead on his.

"We can't do this," she spoke. The words hurt to say as much as it hurt Jesse to hear.

"I don't get it. Why can't this work? It was working fine before… before…" Jesse pulled back and turned around, rubbing his temples.

"Before _what_, Jesse? Say it."

"Before you disappeared!" He turned around and flailed his arms. "Everything was _fine _between us! Why did you do it Beca? _Why did you leave_?" he barked. She was taken aback.

"I shouldn't have come," she said softly.

"No, you shouldn't have. You're just going to break my heart again. You're a heartbreaker, Beca Mitchell. One day you knew you were going to walk all over me in high-heeled shoes. Three years ago was that day. Yesterday was that day. _Today _is that day." She didn't say anything, even when his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I just want to know. I want to know why you left. I want to know why you had to drop out of high school, why you disappeared for three years, why your apartment looked like a train wreck the day you left, why your dad went missing, why your mom was found dead, why you _left me_. I want to know, Beca. I want answers."

"You are so _selfish_, Jesse Swanson. I did all of this for you. I told you yesterday that I had to leave to keep you safe—"

"I don't even know what that means! Just tell me what that means! No riddles, no cryptic explanations!"

Beca didn't speak for moments. "I can't," she finally said, her voice remarkably even.

"Why not?"

"Jesse I can't tell you any of what you want to know if you want me to stay."

"_No,_" he raised his voice. "No more going away. The first time was hard enough."

"Then trust me when I tell you this: I left because I had to. I didn't want to, God knows I didn't want to. I had to. If I didn't, your life would be in danger. My parents died because of me. If that happens to you… _acheronta movebo_."

"What?"

"_Acheronta movebo. _It's Latin for 'I will raise Hell'."

"No, I know that. What do you mean they died because of you?"

"I meant what I said," she stated in a slightly more harsh tone without making eye contact. "Jesse, I want you to steer clear of me. I… I'm not _good_ for you. I can't be. You wouldn't understand. You deserve someone who will… You deserve someone better than me."

"Beca, no. I can't do that, I _can't_." Tears were welling up in his eyes. "I haven't… Beca, I lo—"

"No, you can't. You can't love me, Jesse." Now she felt the tears in her own eyes. She hated this. She wished she didn't have to do any of it, that they could have a normal life together. "A life with me is a dangerous life."

"So be it."

"Jesse. You have to move on. I came to tell you goodbye. I won't let anyone else die because of me, and I need you to understand that."

"_Goodbye_? Beca, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need protection, and I'm not going to die if I simply _date_ you."

"You don't understand."

"Enlighten me, then."

He was crying, but she had blinked away her tears. It hurt. All of this really hurt, but she had to do it.

"Goodbye, Jesse," Beca said. She sucked in her breath and exited the apartment.

This time, he followed her.

* * *

**A/N: I had trouble with the ending of this chapter and it took a while to write. Please review :)**


	4. The Great Hall

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 4: The Great Hall**

**A/N: I got my black belt in karate! I'm so happy… and tired. **

* * *

_Received at 7:14AM  
From: Luke_

_Where are you?!_

_Received at 7:15AM  
From: Stacie_

_I don't know where you are, but you need to come to the Great Hall right now. It's really important._

_Received at 7:17AM_

_Beca. Maryse and Robert are back. They have news. _

Beca had gotten the three text messages right before she ran out on Jesse. She had this feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she guessed it was from the anticipation from the texts. But, she also had a feeling in her heart, and it was one she couldn't shake.

She really wished she didn't have to do that to Jesse. Beca _wished _she could tell him everything, about how she was a Shadowhunter, and that she fights demons for a living. But she had already told him too much.

Beca was now on her way to the Institute, unable to run because of how exhausted she was, but still walking at a fast pace. Whatever was waiting for her at the Institute was not good. She could tell, even if it was just a text. She could tell that it was wrong, and it was about her in some way. If Maryse and Robert were already back, two weeks early, something was up.

* * *

Jesse was struggling to keep up with her. He had almost gotten hit by a bike, he ran into a stop sign pole, and nearly tripped over an uneven side walk. Of course, he wasn't in his best shape. Beca was driving him insane. How did she get his address? Why doesn't she want to be around him? Where is she even going? It was all too much.

He kept a good distance from her and kept his hood up, so if she looked back, she wouldn't see him. Jesse was beginning to feel confused. This was his morning run routine. Why is she walking it?

He watched as Beca stopped in front of an old church-looking building. Jesse never usually noticed it on his run, but looking at it now, he could tell it was probably beautiful once. It was guarded by a tall, black metal fence in a quiet part of Manhattan. Well, as quiet as Manhattan gets.

She took out something; it looked like a decorative pen. Jesse saw her trace it along the bars of the gate, and then it opened up. Probably some magnetic thing. He was about to go forward and follow her in there until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

It was Benji. He had two bags from Ace Hardware strapped to his forearms. He looked at his best friend with utter misperception and bewilderment. _This must look weird, _Jesse thought. Jesse was currently hiding outside the fence behind a shrubbery, watching Beca trot across the pathway to the doors of the old building.

"Benji, I don't have time to explain. I need to get in there," Jesse whispered, ducking down lower and running as fast as he could just in time to catch the metal gate before it slammed shut. He looked behind him; Benji was by his side.

Jesse observed Beca's movements. She walked on the destroyed cobblestone walkway, hopped up three stairs, and leaned towards the giant double-doors of the mysterious building. He couldn't make out what had happened next, but whatever she did, it caused the door to open. She slipped inside before the doors opened all the way, and then they sealed shut.

"That was cool," Benji said. Jesse didn't say anything, he just nudged him along. He pushed the metal gate open and ran in the same pattern that Beca did. He got to the front doors and stopped cold.

The doors were obviously bolted and locked. _Such high-tech security system for such an old building, _Jesse thought.

"We can't get in through this door. Or the windows. They're too high up, and locked." Jesse concluded. "It's impossible… for us, at least." He uselessly pulled on the doors, but they didn't budge. Not even a little bit.

"Why do you need to get in there?" asked Benji, who hadn't gone up with Jesse and was patiently waiting at the foot of the steps.

"Beca… she keeps disappearing. I have a feeling this is where she goes. I don't know why. I don't know how. I just know. It's hard to explain."

"You do realize this building is incompetent for living. I doubt she would—"

"This is where she stays. I know it is. Come on, there's gotta be another way in."

* * *

The New York Conclave meetings were always held in the Great Hall. On the second floor of the Institute, there was a double-doored entrance that led to a large room with wooden floors and burgundy walls. Tapestries hung on the walls, each decorated with different scenes. The most famous was the Angel Raziel rising up from Lake Lyn, the Mortal Cup and Mortal Sword in both hands. It was the first one hung.

The room was constructed like a court room. It had stands and a place for the judge and rows of seats for the jury and crowd. Although, it wasn't quite like the ordinary mundane courts. These rooms were only used when something big, _really_ big, happens. Not like the ordinary, "if you are going 51 miles per hour on a road with a speed limit of 50, I'm going to pull you over, give you a ticket, and watch as actual criminals pass by," mundane court. This was serious.

In front of the stands stood a long, centered table with two chairs at the narrow ends and seven chairs on each side. Head of the Institute, Maryse Lightwood, sat at the end of the table, with Robert Lightwood at the other end, facing her. On the sides sat Luke, Chloe, Stacie, Beca, and a few other Shadowhunters that were unfamiliar to Beca. She guessed they were working the same case as… whatever this meeting was about. Beca was still unsure.

The crowd of Shadowhunters poured into the room and each of them took a seat in the rows beyond the table. Discussions flowed through the air like pollen on the first day of spring. They only ceased when an unfamiliar figure in blue robes came into the room through the double doors. She looked about fifty, if not her late forties. Her black hair, lined with grey, was tied back into a long braid that nearly touched the small of her back.

Beca leaned over to Stacie, who had been twiddling her thumbs underneath the table. "Who is she?" Beca whispered.

Stacie looked startled. "That's the Consul, Jia Penhallow. She travelled all the way from Alicante for this meeting."

Jia Penhallow gracefully made her way to the bench, and stood as she reached her seat. Suddenly, all the Shadowhunters in the room stood with her. Maryse eyed Beca and signaled her to stand. Beca felt her cheeks flame. With another agile movement, Jia sat, and as did everyone else, including Beca.

"Shadowhunters," said Jia. "We are here today to bring back an old investigation regarding the murder of the Downworlder, Sheila Mitchell, and the Shadowhunter, Jonathan Mitchell."

Beca went pale.

"As you all know," she went on, "Jonathan and Sheila were both said to be killed on the same day, November 23rd, 2015. They were a family of three, but only one survived. Rebec—"

"Why is this being brought back up?" Beca demanded, slamming her fist on the table. Everyone looked at her, and Stacie kicked her in the shin. Beca didn't notice. "They're dead. Resurrecting the dead is not one of our skills. They're _dead_. The case is three years old and there is nothing we can do about it."

Whispers shot through the crowd immediately, but Beca didn't focus on any of them. She was much too preoccupied on the stranger talking about her parents as if this case still mattered.

Maryse eyed Beca once again. "_Rebeca_," she breathed.

"Miss Mitchell," the Consul began, "there is no need to cause a riot." The crowd hushed when Jia drew her hand into a fist.

"Then tell me why this discussion is happening. _Tell me_."

Jia cleared her throat and faced the crowd once again. "We have reason to believe Jonathan Mitchell may still be alive."

* * *

Never in his lifetime has Jesse Swanson tried to break into a house—or any building for that matter—but then again, there's a first time for everything.

Benji and Jesse had been searching the premise for over fifteen minutes, but still could not find a way in. They were back to the front of the house, tired and cold.

"I'm starting to think this is a little pointless," Benji said.

"No, Benj, she's in there. We just haven't looked hard enough," Jesse protested, continuing to look around. Benji went on about something to do with needing to go home and finish English homework, but Jesse was barely concerned. His thoughts were on what he had just unearthed.

"Benji, come here," said Jesse, interrupting his friend's rhetorical monologue.

Jesse picked his fingers through some tall grass and uncovered a small, caged opening that led to a room underground. He knew it was a room, because there were little white lights cascading from sconces. "We can fit through here, we just gotta remove the bars."

"Jesse…," Benji groaned. Jesse turned around and sighed.

"Look, you don't have to help me. I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own. I would prefer you to come, but not if you are going to complain."

Benji's expression changed from hard to soft. He stared into nothingness for a moment, and then lifted his head. "Let's remove the bars then."

Jesse smiled and reached towards the bars and pulled with all his strength. They moved a little bit, but it was obvious that physical strength wasn't the way in.

"Benji, what did you buy at the hardware store?" Jesse asked, gesturing to the bags that Benji had set down a few feet from them.

He furrowed his brow. "Um, cable ties, masking tape so I can mail that shirt back to my grandma, duct tape, some screws, bolt cutters to fix the—"

"Bolt cutters. Give me that." Jesse took the bolt cutters from Benji's bag and forced the packaging open. He attached the bolt cutters to the hatch on the metal bar, and it came loose with a cloud of dust. It was almost too easy. He did the same with the other two bars, and then put the tool back into the bag. Jesse gave one more look at his surroundings, and slid into the room underground. Benji peered down at Jesse.

"You got this?" he asked.

"I got this," Jesse answered.

* * *

"What do you mean? How can he still be alive?" Beca spoke aloud, ignoring the looks she got from every Shadowhunter at the table. "We were all told he was dead."

"We made a mistake," Jia defended. "We have a rule. Question everything, assume nothing. We broke it. We _assumed_ Jonathan was dead. But now, we are not so sure."

Beca felt her heart weigh her back down into her seat. Tears rushed into her eyes. _Don't cry. Don't cry._ She remembered a trick Luke had taught her a couple years ago; whenever you feel you are going to unwelcomely cry, look into a light. With that, Beca took out her witchlight under the table and stared down at it.

"The news report," Jia went on, now facing the crowd again, "came from Maryse and Robert Lightwood when they were working Aubrey Penrose's case." Beca noticed Chloe, Stacie, and Luke had bowed their heads. Beca ducked over to Stacie, who was beside her, and whispered in her ear.

"Who is Aubrey?" she asked.

Stacie looked at Beca. "Aubrey Penrose. Shadowhunter. She lived with us at the Institute for a long time, but the same day you showed up, she went MIA. Haven't heard from her since."

Beca cleared her throat and stared directly at Jia. "So, what does this have to do with my dad?" she asked. Jia's gaze was brought down on her, and then at the silenced crowd again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood found a note while infiltrating the fortress of one of Lexa's alliances. To be more specific, the note was said to have been written by Jonathan. It was dated last Tuesday, addressed to Miss Rebeca Mitchell. It reads—"

"No," Beca interrupted. "Let me read it. It is addressed to _me_ and you have _no_ right to read it." The crowd gasped at Beca's outburst. A Shadowhunter that was standing beside Jia leaned into her ear and whispered something. She shook her head and dismissed him.

"Very well, Rebeca. You are summoned to the stands," Jia declared. Beca stood from her chair and shakily walked up the steps onto the stands. She was handed the note.

_Beca,_

_I do not have much time to write this. I assume you have allied with Shadowhunters. Tell them. Tell them Lexa is coming. Warn them. I love you Beca. _

_Dad_

Beca's hands shook and she dropped the note. It was his handwriting. His signature. His left-handed pen markings. His _words_.

"He's alive," she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?" Jia said, leaning in closer.

Beca balled her hands into fists and removed herself from the stands, and then stormed out of the Great Hall, not looking back.

* * *

Jesse's landing was unkind to him. The hard surface shot a pain through his ankles as he landed improperly on his feet. He gave one last look at Benji and told him he'd be back before tomorrow. Benji nodded and left the vicinity, retreating back home.

Jesse took in his surroundings; he was in a circular, dim-lit room made of concrete floor and grey, stone-brick walls. The room opened up to a wide hallway, also dimly-lit. He proceeded that way, since there was no other obvious path.

He wandered the hallway, constantly looking from left to right. He knew he was underground, so he guessed this must be some sort of underground tunnel, or secret passageway, perhaps. After about a minute of walking straight, the hallway opened up to a small, square room, with stairs leading up to the first floor. Jesse took careful steps up the stone staircase, making sure he didn't generate a sound.

He reached the top of the steps and gawked in awe. It was not what he expected.

The floors were finely polished and the walls looked freshly painted, some with fine, patterned wallpaper. Jesse looked up; the place was huge. Tapestries and photographs and weaponry hung from the walls. Judging from the intricately locked double doors, he guessed this was the entry hall, and that those were the doors Beca had come through. Though Jesse didn't see Beca—or anyone, for that matter—he heard voices. Voices coming from a nearby room, he fathomed, based on the volume. Jesse strode towards the noise that seemed to be coming from a room beyond yet another set of double doors and peeked through the crack in the door.

This day was just full of surprises.

The room behind the doors was enormous, and full of people. People with the same marks Beca had had when he first saw her again. The majority were perched on rows of seats behind a three-foot tall barrier that separated the crowd from what looked like a giant table and the judge's bench. Then there were a few seated at the center table, and one person—a woman—in blue robes that stood at the judge's bench.

_Some sort of court meeting?_

Jesse focused his hearing on the woman in blue robes. "...written by Jonathan. It was dated last Tuesday, addressed to Miss Rebeca Mitchell. It reads—," the woman said. A voice from the table interrupted her, causing the crowd to huff in astonishment.

"No," said the voice. _Wait, _Jesse thought. _I know that voice._

Jesse whipped his head back into attention and continued to listen, but heard nothing. He listened closer.

The sound of wood on wood cascaded through the doors. Then the pitter-patter of feet—

Someone was coming.

Jesse ran behind a pillar and ducked his head just as the doors burst open and someone came through.

He recognized the person immediately. The quick, agile feet, the black clothing, the dark makeup, the fierce blue eyes that were visible from even this far away, the ruffled brunette hair, the short figure, the pale skin…

Beca.

* * *

Beca marched away from the Great Hall, ignoring the flicker of movement from behind the pillar. Too many thoughts were running through her head right now to focus on anything but the stairs underneath her feet as she raced up to her bedroom.

She thought back to the day Sheila died, the day her dad went missing, the day she left Jesse. That day turned her life around. She was normal before all that. Everything was normal.

Beca blamed her dad for all of this. She blamed him for not telling her, for whatever reason he had. If she had known… if she had just _known. _The thing that killed her the most was that she was _still_ not aware of anything Shadow world-related that may have happened in her past.

She pushed her door open with such force that the handle hit the wall and knocked over a vase. Beca looked back at the shattered pieces and slammed the door shut. Her nails dug into her scalp, and her breathing sped up. She pummeled the broken vase with her fist and growled in frustration, taking no notice in her bleeding knuckles. Beca sat back against the wall and allowed for the tears to fall down her cheek.

This was so _stupid. _She desperately wished she had someone else's life. A normal life. Or Stacie's life, with both of her parents and her two brothers. She wished she had a life with Jesse. She wished she finished high school and went to college. She wished this wasn't happening.

"You know," said a voice, "crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion."

"Yeah, well, tell that to _my_ _fucking emotions_, because I _hate_ crying," Beca said with her forehead resting on her knees and her hair covering her like a blanket. "And sadness. And anything that—wait," Her head popped up.

_That's not Chloe, or Stacie, or Luke…_

"Jesse," she breathed.

Jesse, who had been standing in the doorway, permitted himself to come into view.

"I—I don't understand," she started. "How did you…"

"It wasn't easy. But I'm here now, and you can't make me or tell me to leave—"

"No, Jesse, I'm not going to tell you to leave."

His expression changed. He bent down towards Beca and, with hesitation, brought her into a gentle embrace. A small smile peaked at the corners of his lips. It faded quickly when he realized Beca was still crying. Jesse thought about what to say; he didn't want to provoke or upset her more.

"Becs, what's wrong?" he asked, grinning at the fact that he just called her by her old nickname. She didn't say anything, however. She just sobbed into her legs.

"Changethesubject," Beca mumbled in a quick and quiet voice that Jesse didn't comprehend.

"What?"

"The subject. Change it."

Jesse thought for a moment. What could he say? "Your hand is bleeding."

"A different subject."

"Okay…," he began. "When did you get your first tattoo?"

She stifled a laugh. "I don't have any tattoos."

"Beca, they're all over you." He traced the black designs that covered her skin. She propped her head up. He swiped a lock of hair behind her ear, wiped the fallen tears, and looked at her with utter perplexity.

"They aren't tattoos. They're… no. No, I shouldn't be telling you this."

Jesse tensed. "You can tell me anything."

Beca let out a laughing sigh of disbelief and shook her head. "You wouldn't understand." Jesse didn't say anything. "The old me… yeah, maybe you understood her. But Jess, I'm _not_ her. I've… changed. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Kind of. I've always been this girl, I just didn't know it. That life you knew that other girl in… it was a lie. This is the truth."

"What's the truth?" he furrowed his brow, hoping to get something out of her. Beca looked at him with dark blue eyes that could kill. She shrugged Jesse's arms away, stood up, and locked her bedroom door. She then walked over to the single window and pulled the blinds shut, then turned around to look at Jesse.

"You'll only get it if I show you. Stand up," Beca demanded. He did as he was told. "Come here."

Jesse walked over to her with the tiniest steps possible. He was beyond nervous. "Wha—"

"Don't talk."

He was in front of her now, maybe one foot away. She held up her hand, the one with blood on the knuckles from where she pounded her fist on the glass.

"These marks on my body, they aren't tattoos. They're runes. I and everyone downstairs use them to do things people like you couldn't."

"People… like me?"

"Yes. You're normal. Mundane. I'm not. I'll show you—"

_Knock Knock!_

"_Beca_!" said a voice from behind the door. "_Beca we want to talk to you_!" The voice belonged to Chloe.

"Hide. Now," Beca whispered. She ran to the door and unlocked it. Jesse ran and ducked behind a patterned chair that rested in a corner of the big bedroom. He peeped through a small opening and saw a redhead girl, a tall girl with long, black hair, and a blonde guy that was a tad over-muscular.

"Beca! We were worried about you," said the girl with black hair.

"I'm fine, Stacie," said Beca. "Everything is oka—"

"What happened to your hand?" the ginger asked, grabbing Beca's wrist and turning it over so her palm was facing down. "Why haven't you healed it?"

Beca shot a quick glance over at Jesse, who was out of view from the others. "I… it's nothing."

The blonde man spoke up this time. He looked about a year older than Jesse. "Why did you just look that way?" He pointed in the direction of the armchair. Jesse sucked in a breath and covered his mouth with his hand.

Beca moved to stand in front of the three people, her back now facing Jesse and the armchair. "I'm fine guys, really, I am. I'd appreciate it if—" Stacie cupped a hand over Beca's mouth and moved towards the chair. She had what looked like a sword in her hand. Jesse put his back against the chair and closed his eyes.

"Beca," said Stacie. "Are you aware that there's someone else in your bedroom?"

* * *

**A/N: Totally just spent the day writing this, while also online shopping. Day well spent.**

**Leave feedback! I'd love to know what you guys thought of this chapter!**


	5. The Truth Comes Out

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 5: The Truth Comes Out**

**A/N: This is becoming a problem. All I want to do is write this story. (Or is it a problem?) However, I have been working on my other two stories, finally. **

* * *

_Previously…_

"_Beca," said Stacie. "Are you aware that there's someone else in your bedroom?"_

* * *

"There's no one in my bedroom, Stacie," Beca declared.

Jesse was silently freaking out. Why on _earth _does that woman have a sword? And why the hell is she threatening him?

He nearly jumped when he felt the rubbing of soft fur on his forearm.

A _cat._ There was a long-haired white and grey cat rubbing up against his forearm. _How convenient,_ he thought. The plan came naturally.

"Beca. Chairs don't breathe," said Luke. The three began to move forward, past Beca.

"W-W-Wait—"

"_Meow_," said the cat that popped out from behind the chair. The tension on everyone's shoulders eased.

"It's just my cat," Beca said, sounding relieved. She didn't really know what she was going to say after "wait." Jesse grinned at himself. Beca trotted over and picked up the cat, then nuzzled her face into its soft, grey fur. "She's not dangerous, unless you have blonde hair and your name is Luke Herondale." Beca brought the cat closer to Luke, and he stepped back. Chloe and Stacie chuckled.

"Are you sure there's—"

"Yes, Luke, I'm fairly certain it's just me, you, Stacie, Chloe, and little Charlie in this room. Now, if you three would kindly make your way out, I'm going to sleep."

"It's hardly noon—"

"Out."

The three marked figures promptly left the bedroom, leaving Beca alone. At least, that's what they thought.

Beca watched them go, and as she turned around, Jesse was already behind her. He was smiling, like he expected something was going to happen. His hands were by his side, but Beca knew he wanted nothing but to touch her.

"So, Beca. What is it that you were going to show me?" he asked. She wiped away whatever emotions she may have had on her face and reached for her stele that was hidden in her back pocket.

"This." Beca held it up in front of both of them, and his smile faded a bit. It wasn't what he was expecting.

"You wanted to show me… a decorative pen…" He raised one eyebrow. She felt herself laugh, although no sound came out.

"No, Jesse, it's not just a pen."

"What, is this _The Lightning Thief _or something?" Jesse joked. She turned away from him and started walking back and forth and in circles.

"You know I would never lie to you, right?" she said with a moment's hesitation.

"Of course."

"So even if this is the most bizarre thing you have ever seen and/or heard, you won't… react badly?" Her voice faltered. He stiffened, but didn't speak until a minute passed.

"I'll try not to," Jesse finally said. "I just want to know, Beca." He placed his hands on her upper arm, forcing her to stand directly across from him. Beca let out a breath.

"What I am about to show you, you've only seen in movies. Probably not exactly like this, but the main idea. Are you sure about this?"

He nodded. "Show me."

She closed her eyes and exhaled. When she began speaking, her eyelids raised. "Remember the night of my birthday, when that weird symbol showed up on my hand? This one?" she held up her left hand and showed him her Clairvoyance rune. He acquiesced. "It appeared because… because there was demonic energy near." He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head. "Just listen." Jesse closed his mouth. "Demonic energy. It is released by demons, and normally detected by a Sensor. I grew up without knowing about demons or anything of the sort, and that was the first time I was ever near anything with demonic energy. I know this sounds crazy. Let me show you that I'm telling the truth." His expression didn't change, he just looked confused. She held up her hand with the bloody knuckles, the blood now dry. "This is a stele. It allows me to draw these marks on myself. Like I was saying earlier, these marks are called runes. They heal, give me heightened speed, agility, strength, and more. Everyone like me, everyone that has these marks, this is why." She showed Jesse the cuts, and then pressed her stele to her wrist and drew an _iratze_, or healing rune. Jesse watched in awe as the cuts faded into a white scar, and then disappeared all-together.

"What did… how did… how…?" he stuttered.

"Magic," she breathed. He looked at her, and he had a certain look in his eye, but it wasn't disbelief, it was more like a spark of interest. Beca looked into the distance and prepared to tell him the rest of the story. "Three years ago, I woke up the morning after my birthday and my dad was calling me. I answered, and he told me not to come home. He didn't sound angry, just scared. So of course, I had to go check on him. When I got there, the house was destroyed. You saw it for yourself. The news report got it wrong, because they don't understand. Two men and a demon broke into my apartment and stole my father from me. I almost died that day, Jesse. If I weren't for those three people that walked in earlier, I wouldn't be here now. The demon… it attacked me. They saved me, they brought me here, and healed me with the same rune I used to heal my glass cuts." She was tearing up now. "It's all real, Jesse. I couldn't drag you into it before, because I didn't want you to die. But now, and I don't know if this is selfish or not, I need you. That's why I'm done pushing you away."

He stared at her, speechless. She was expecting that reaction.

Finally, he spoke. "So, what you're saying is… you practice… magic?"

"No," she answered almost immediately. "I'm not a warlock. I'm a Shadowhunter. It's not really something you can google." He stiffened again, and she took note of it. "Jesse, I'm telling the truth."

"No, I mean, I know you are. I just… I'm trying to understand this, Beca." Beca relaxed as the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile. "What," he spoke in whisper, "is a Shadowhunter?"

Beca took his hands and together they sat down on the chest at the foot of her bed. "A Shadowhunter is another word for a half-human/half-angel warrior that protects the world from demons. Without people like me, you'd all be dead. This world would have been destroyed long ago by demons. I'm a Shadowhunter because my dad is one, and so were his parents, and his parents' parents. They gave me my angel blood."

"Angel blood," Jesse repeated in a hushed voice. "Like, heavenly angels?"

"Yes," Beca confirmed. "Except, it's not a requirement to practice any religion. However, with heavenly angels come hellish demons. And other Downworlders as well."

"Downworlders?"

"It basically sums everything up. Werewolves, vampires, warlocks, and faeries. We have a peace agreement with them."

"So how do you kill a zombie?" Jesse smiled, clearly intrigued.

"We don't," Beca replied.

"Oh, right, because they're already dead," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, they don't exist."

Jesse frowned.

* * *

They reminisced about the past three years for hours and hours, and it was now late at night. By this hour, Beca had told him everything. She didn't spare a detail. Jesse appreciated anything and everything she had to say. She told him how Sheila was not her mom and that she was actually a werewolf, why she had to flee from her old life, and finally, how her dad may still be alive. She told him how she blamed him for what happened, and why she didn't go back to find him the day he was taken. Beca was crying at this point, and he held her and calmed her down like he used to. When she had anxiety attacks, he would always be the one who would help and comfort her. Jesse couldn't bare the fact that she has had to deal with her anxiety alone for three whole years. He wondered how often she got them, living this life instead of her old one.

"God dammit, I wish you could stay here," Beca said at random, after a minute of silence. Jesse's eyes widened.

"Why can't I?"

"Like I said before, this is a home for Shadowhunters. You're… a mundane. You're not even supposed to be here right now. I'm breaking the Law with you right now." His facial expression saddened as hers did.

"Then tell me to go," he said.

"What?"

"Tell me, Beca. Tell me to go, and I will."

She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together, and shook her head. "I can't do that," she whispered, her voice cracking. Jesse reached for her chin and tilted her head up. He slid his hand over Beca's cheek, one finger anchored behind her ear. Then he angled his head down and kissed her, sending a warm ache through her body. Beca wrapped her hands around his arms, as if she would never let go.

The kiss intensified, and one by one, clothing articles hit the floor. Jesse picked Beca up and carried her over to the four-poster bed. Her marks were in their full glory, and Jesse was amazed. He spent time tracing her marks and kissing the scars that she had obtained from the countless battles against demons. He may not have fully understood everything yet, but he did know that she trusted him. She _really _trusted him. He kissed every inch of her body. When he reached to remove her necklace, she stopped his hand and shook her head. He looked back down at the necklace, and saw that it was the one he gave her, three years ago, on her birthday. Jesse pressed his lips on hers once more and smiled. When he finally touched her, the hollowed-out feeling in her chest did not feel as dominant.

* * *

Jesse woke up with the sun the next morning as it gleamed through the curtains. His eyes fluttered open, and he panicked for a quick moment. Initially, he didn't recognize his surroundings, then he remembered what had happened yesterday. He looked across at Beca, who was still sleeping. She looked so innocent, so delicate, so beautiful. Her pale skin glowed in the sunlight. Jesse gently rested his head back on his pillow and began outlining the thick black lines that covered her skin. Slowly, her eyes opened. His gaze rested on her perfect, intricately designed blue eyes that no artist could even try to replicate.

"Hi," Beca said, smiling. Jesse leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. They simply stared at each other for minutes until Jesse's stomach grumbled, making Beca laugh. "Do you want breakfast?" she inquired.

"I don't think I'm allowed downstairs," he stated.

"I'll get you something. It may take a minute if no one has cooked, though," she said. Following that announcement, she slipped on some clothes and exited the bedroom.

* * *

Beca didn't even get all the way downstairs before she started smelling the mouth-watering scent of eggs, grits, bacon, and toast. She entered the kitchen and saw Maryse Lightwood cooking, and Chloe, Luke, Stacie, and two boys that resembled Stacie waiting impatiently for the food.

"Beca," Stacie smiled, greeting the small brunette that had previously entered the room. "You remember Alec and Max, my brothers, right? You only saw them once… a couple years ago. Okay, so you probably don't remember them."

"Alec, Max, of course I remember them," Beca half-lied. She remembed Stacie had brothers, she just had forgotten their names. Alec came to greet her with a handshake, while Max hugged her waist. Alec looked maybe a year older than Stacie, while Max was probably only about nine or ten. Alec had short black hair and piercing, light blue eyes. He had no emotion on his face as he shook Beca's hand.

"Good to see you again," he said.

"You too," Beca fibbed. Max was wearing an oversized, long-sleeved t-shirt and big glasses. His black hair resembled the others', except it was curly and covered most of his forehead. Beca wondered where he had gotten that from, since all the Lightwoods had straight hair. "Hey, Max!" She ran her fingers through his hair and chuckled.

Once Max let go of his death grip on Beca, she trotted over to the breakfast buffet and served a plate with double servings. When no one was looking, she stuck a second fork in her back pocket.

"Hungry, are you Beca?" said Robert Lightwood as he came into the room. He had a five o'clock shadow and bags under his eyes. It looked as if he hadn't slept in a week.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't eat last night." Beca walked towards the kitchen exit at an increased pace.

"Beca." Maryse caught her arm. "Where on earth did you get that awful red bruise on your collarbone?" she said, her British accent thicker than Beca remembered.

"Must've been a demon fight. I'll get an iratze on it… later," Beca said, pulling up her shirt to cover her "bruise" and fleeing towards the door once again.

"Going back up already?" Luke said with a mouthful of food. Beca said nothing, she just glanced back in their direction, and then proceeded to her bedroom.

* * *

Beca opened the door to her room and saw Jesse pacing back and forth in his underwear. He looked nervous, and he was holding something in his hand. A phone.

"Jesse, is everything okay?" Beca asked quickly, obviously concerned. "You pace when you're thinking."

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. He's not picking up Beca. He didn't text me when he got home. What if he didn't get home? God, I'm an idiot. I was so distracted, I…"

Beca put the food on the nightstand. "Jesse, Jesse, calm down. Who are you talking about?" She hurried over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, stopping his frequent pacing and slowing his breathing.

"Benji. He hasn't even left me a text to see if _I'm_ okay. He always does. Even when I'm just at the grocery store and I'm taking too long. He's not answering any of my texts or calls. What if something happened to him?"

"Maybe his phone is dead—"

"He always keeps his phone charged. Always. I don't remember the last time it was dead. And even if it was, he would have charged it by now." Jesse threw his phone on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "All this supernatural stuff I learned about yesterday has me thinking… defectively."

"Jesse, there's no reason anyone or any_thing_ would go after Benji. He's perfectly normal."

"So were you," Jesse said with his hand on his forehead. His eyes widened; he looked up and saw that Beca's expression had changed. "Wait, Beca, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine. I get it. We can go check on him if you would like," Beca said with no particular emotion.

"Okay, thank you. I would like that."

"Eat. I'm gonna get ready, just in case."

Beca dressed herself in a black long-sleeve and black elastic pants. She slipped on her weapons belt, which was equipped with a seraph blade and a few _adamas _daggers. She then strapped on her black combat boots and walked over to Jesse. She dropped a knife on the table in front of him. He stopped chewing and stared at it, then looked at her with wide eyes.

"To protect you, just in case I can't," Beca said. Jesse eyed the knife again. "Not saying there will be anything to protect you from. Just… precautionary."

He nodded. "You should eat, too."

"I will, but we should go before anyone notices I'm gone." Beca picked up a piece of toast and bacon and took a bite out of each. Then she walked over to the unlocked window and slid it up.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jesse asked, walking over to the open window.

"Well, you didn't expect me to sneak you through that noisy, flamboyant, quadruple-locked double-doorway in the massive entry hall, did you? We're going out the window." Jesse's expression went from concerned to alarmed. "Don't worry, I've done it before. It's not that bad."

"Says you. You're a fully trained Shadowhunter that kicks demonic ass. I'm a film major."

Beca smiled. "So you are fulfilling that dream of yours." When his mien didn't change, she kissed him on the cheek. "It'll be fine. Follow me, and keep one hand on the exterior walls at all times."

Beca helped Jesse in their decent down the building, giving him tips and tricks and guiding him through the safest yet quickest routes. When they touched the ground, he looked as if he could kiss it. It took them roughly five minutes to descend the massive edifice, and although Beca could have done it in one minute, she stayed right behind Jesse the whole time. They continued along the path to Jesse's apartment in a rush, on his request, but still made conversation.

"So people really can't see you?" asked Jesse, who had sped up his pace into a light jog to keep up with Beca's powerwalk.

"Not unless I want them to," Beca answered.

"So is that why I _can_ see you?" he questioned again. She nodded.

They neared Jesse's apartment, and Beca stopped abruptly to a silent vibration in her front pocket. She pulled out what looked like a black box that had buttons marked with runes on it.

"What is—"

"Hush," Beca whispered. "This is a Sensor. We use it to detect demonic energy. It vibrated, which means _something_ is or was here."

"So you mean…" Jesse's voice trailed off.

"No, that doesn't mean Benji is dead. No one would send something just to kill him." Jesse winced at her words. "Sorry, you didn't want to hear that. Stay here."

"No." He caught her arm. "Whenever two people split up in horror movies, one dies. That is not happening."

"This is _not_ a movie Jesse," she snapped. "And neither of us is dying. But if you insist, come along."

The two of them went quietly up the steps, neither daring to say a word. Beca concluded halfway up that there were no demons, because she would have smelled them by then. However, she said nothing. Freaking Jesse out and leading him to believe a vampire or faerie took Benji would be a burden.

They reached the top of the steps and carefully approached the door. There were no signs of a break-in, which was good. _Maybe Jesse is neighbors with a witch, _she thought.

"I don't think there is anything here," Beca whispered.

"But the Sensor…," Jesse trailed off. "I want to go inside and make sure he is okay." He stuffed his hand in his pocket and brought out a single key, then pressed it into the keyhole of the doorknob. Much to his surprise, it was already unlocked. "He never keeps the door unlocked," Jesse whispered, hastily pulling back his key. His breathing sped up.

"Jesse, it's okay." Beca rubbed his back in light circles, soothing him once again. She took the seraph blade out of her belt and turned the knob, then kicked the door open. Beca immediately moved to block Jesse's view.

"Beca, what is it—," he started, and then looked over her shoulder to see what she was looking at, and nearly fell backward.

Blood.

There was blood on the floor.

Beca caught Jesse, and sat him down on the wood. She instructed him to stay where he was, but he refused again. He took deep breaths, stood up, and followed her inside.

Jesse could see more clearly now. There was blood on the side of the counter, and it continued in a trail to the floor. He opened his mouth to say something, but Beca held up a hand and silenced him. She pulled out her Sensor and pressed two buttons. Nothing happened.

"There's nothing here," she concluded. "It's safe to look around." Beca took the lead; she walked around the room several times, and stopped to pick up something near the blood. A phone. "He was in the middle of texting you when this happened. My guess is that someone rang the doorbell just after Benji walked inside. The text says: _Just letting you know I made it h—_and then it stops. Someone took him by surprise, and pushed him back against the counter," she pointed to the blotch of blood on the corner of the counter, "and he slid down as the blood poured from his back. That explains the trail of blood from the corner to the floor. He may have been unconscious as well; these are just inferences."

"Do you think he's…"

"No, Jesse, I _know _he's not dead. If he were dead, he would still be here."

"Are we gonna find him?" Jesse asked with a long face and a shaky voice. Beca looked at him like he was crazy.

"Jesse. Let me put it this way. The fact that my Sensor went off is an indicator that whatever happened here was supernatural. As a Shadowhunter, I'm required to investigate at whatever the cost. So yes, the others and I are going to try to find him. Let me call Chl—"

"Wait, should they know that I'm with you? Wouldn't that be breaking your code, or something?" he inquired.

"Shadowhunters help mundanes if they come into contact with the Downworld. Yes, I was breaking the Law before, but now since your friend is in danger, you were pulled into it. Like it or not Jesse, there's no backing out now. We're gonna find Benji. I just have to make a few calls."

"I would not do that if I were you," said a new, feminine voice that almost caught Beca by surprise. She turned and saw a figure dressed in a black, short-sleeve blouse and a canvas-patterned red mini skirt. Her shiny black stilettoes made her as tall as Jesse. The woman was as pale as a ghost. "Lexa would not be very happy. And your boyfriend's little buddy will not like it if Lexa is not happy." Jesse winced. His grip tightened on Beca's arm.

"Who are you?" Beca asked, clearly unamused.

The pale figure stepped forward. "I am Lyla. I come from Raphael's clan."

Beca's expression changed. "You're a vampire." Lyla laughed, showing her piercing incisors that were not there the last time she opened her mouth.

"I thought you would be able to tell. But it is no matter. I have only one task. I do not wish to harm either of you. I just have one inquiry. Where is the Cup?" she asked.

"As _if _I would know. You're wasting your time. I suggest you be on your way, and that you buy a modern language book. You could use it. Here in the urban heart of New York City, we use contractions."

"I do not believe in your silly ways of speech. I will ask again. Where is the Cup?"

"What is she talking about? What cup?" Jesse whispered to Beca. She didn't acknowledge him.

"I told you. I don't have it," Beca declared. Lyla flashed a sinister smile.

"Then you are of no use." Lyla sped towards Jesse and Beca at a rapid pace. Beca cursed at the heightened vampire speed she had. The vampire kept her eyes on Beca as she pounced, but the short brunette was fast, too. She ducked out of the way and pushed Jesse out the door.

"Go!" she yelled, pulling out a seraph blade and preparing for a one-on-one battle. Beca slashed at Lyla and succeeded, creating a gash that ran from her shoulder to her forearm. The vampire growled as her wound healed. Beca cursed again. She remembered reading about vampires. _To kill a vampire, you must stab it straight into the chest. If it does not puncture the heart, it is not dead._

She pulled out a dagger and flung it at Lyla. It struck her in the shoulder. She yelped in pain, then grabbed it by the handle and pulled it out.

"Stupid mortal, you can't kill me with _that_ aim." Lyla threw the knife at Beca, and it landed in her right bicep. Beca groaned. "However, I cannot kill you either. Lexa wants you alive, so maybe if you were just… unconscious… perhaps from a loss of blood. Yes, that will do quite nicely."

Lyla advanced on Beca, but Beca knew better than to stand still. She spun out of the way and kicked Lyla in the ribs, leaving a dirt mark from her shoe on her black blouse. Beca pulled the knife from her right arm and flung it on the ground. Jesse, disobeying Beca's orders, was standing in the doorway watching the entire event. There was a pause as Beca and Lyla stared at each other with utter hatred. Then, Beca took her long seraph blade and slashed it up the vampire's body. Bright red blood poured from her, but it still began its healing process. Vampire blood was unlike human or Shadowhunter blood; it was more of a bright, ruby red than it was maroon. Beca took the opportunity to kick Lyla to the ground and land on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head on the floor. Beca pressed a knife to the vampire's chest, right where her heart was.

"What are you waiting for?" Lyla said, struggling, but smiling. "Kill me."

Beca was breathing hard. Her arm was still bleeding and in pain. "What does Lexa want with me? Why does she think I have the Cup? Why is your clan in alliance with her?"

"As if I would _really _listen to Raphael. He appreciates Shadowhunters. I do not."

Beca relaxed her eyebrows. "You're a spy for Lexa, aren't you?" Lyla didn't say anything, she just smiled with her incisors showing once again. "The Clave doesn't treat traitors well. You could be killed or imprisoned for the rest of your life. So why do you bother having an alliance with Lexa?"

"Foolish girl. I fear Lexa more than I fear your silly _Clave_," Lyla countered, a sick grin plastered on her face. _More than I fear the Clave._ She should have been afraid, Beca thought. She ought to be afraid, but she wasn't. In Beca's experience, when someone who ought to be afraid wasn't, the reason was rarely bravery. Usually it meant that they knew something you didn't.

"What are you not telling me?" Beca exclaimed. Lyla, once again, was silent. "Tell me, or I'll kill you."

"You will kill me anyway, Shadowhunter. I am no fool," Lyla breathed sharply. Vampires didn't need to breathe, so Beca guessed she was just doing it for effect. Beca pressed the knife deeper, just deep enough for blood to ooze out of the trivial incision.

"Where is Benji?" Beca pleaded.

"Use your so-called clever mind and put the pieces together. Would Lexa risk keeping a _human_ in her own fortress? Or would she… perhaps… ask one of her _spies_ to do the dirty work for her?" Lyla teased.

Beca relaxed. "He's at the Hotel Dumort, isn't he?" Lyla said nothing. "Lexa got you… and a few others in Raphael's clan, I'm assuming, to kidnap Benji. And you stayed behind…" Something in Beca's mind clicked. "…To make sure I found out. She _wants_ us to go after him, doesn't she? She wanted me to find out where he was. She wants me to kill you. What does Lexa want with _me_ though?" She demanded one last time.

"Even with your Shadowhunter training, you still have the dimwitted mind of a mundane. Imbecile. She wants your power."

"My what?"

"I am still speaking English. Your power. You have one. You are not like your little Shadowhunter friends. Lexa could teach you how to use it… wield it… master it… I could bring you to her. In exchange for the curly-haired friend of your boyfriend, of course. He will be free. I can release him just as easily as I captured him." Beca stared for a moment, but said nothing. Lyla caught on. "It is a shame how selfish you are. You tried to rid yourself of anything close to you, including your lover," she stole a look at Jesse, "but it did not work. You are just endangering the lives of everyone you know and love. You are just like your father. Selfish. Weak. Arrogant. A _coward._ He never knew when to stop. No wonder Lex—"

"You don't know anything about my father," Beca snapped. "I don't want anything from Lexa! Or you, you _bitch_!" She slammed the knife down into Lyla's heart, and stayed there until the vampire lay still. She was breathing hard when a tear fell from her eye. She turned her head towards Jesse, who was standing in the doorway, frozen. "Dammit!" Beca cursed. "Jesse, I told you to _go_!"

"Beca," he said, his voice barely audible. "You just…"

"Yeah I know." She rubbed her temples and exhaled deeply.

Jesse's expression changed. His eyes narrowed to her right bicep. "Your arm. It's bleeding." He took hold of her shoulder and rolled her sleeve up so that the wound showed. He leaned in closer and his eyes widened. "We should get you to a hospital."

"And what? So they can ask how it happened? 'Oh, nothing really. Just fighting a vampire. Don't worry. I killed her!'Yeah, great idea. No Jesse, this is nothing serious."

"Nothing _serious?_ Beca, it went through the bone."

"Don't you remember anything that I showed you?" Beca pulled out her stele and drew a healing rune on her arm. "It's just going to take a while to fully heal. But I'm completely okay. Are you? You look as if you'd just seen a ghost." she asked, now concerned about Jesse. He tried not to make eye contact, and she noted it. "Jesse, you can tell me."

He looked at her. "Yes, I'm fine. No I'm not. Maybe I am. I don't _know_. Actually, I know a lot now. More than I probably should. I know my gir—I know you fight demons for a living. I know that there are warlocks and vampires and werewolves and faeries. I know that you just _killed_ a vampire. I know that Benji is missing. But I don't know _why._ It barely makes sense. Everything I ever knew feels wrong somehow. More wrong than this."

Beca tightened her grip on her stele. "Yes, I fight demons for a living. Yes, there are Downworlders. Yes, I just killed someone. And yes, Benji is missing. You're right. But in case you just missed that entire conversation leading up to the undead bitch's death, I don't know either! Dammit, Jesse, I shouldn't have brought you into this. It's my fault you're in danger now. It's my fault Benji's life is on the line. I'm sorry." She stormed out of the apartment, followed by Jesse who was shouting after her.

"Beca! I'm not blaming you. I just… I need time."

She stopped at the top of the steps and turned around to face him. "We don't _have _time. Time isn't a factor in this life." Jesse stopped as well, five feet from her. She crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled. "This really is my fault. My fault I didn't listen to my dad. My fault I went home with you the night of my birthday. Maybe if I hadn't been such a teenager, my parents—my dad and Sheila would still be with me."

Jesse slowly approached her. He rotated her head so she was looking straight, and then tilted it upwards.

"I will never put the blame on you, Beca. And you shouldn't either. You couldn't possibly have known any of this could have happened." He brushed his lips lightly against hers. "And don't think for a second that I regret any of this. I'm happy to have you back in my life… more than you could possible imagine." He pressed his lips against hers. His hands found their way up her arms and rested on her shoulders. She anchored her thumbs around his elbows and accepted the kiss, parting her lips only slightly. They kissed for over a minute until Jesse finally rested his forehead on hers, breaking the kiss. "It's just going to take some getting used to."

Beca nodded. "I'm sorry you had to see me kill someone."

Jesse furrowed his brow. "Who is Raphael?" he inquired, altering the topic to a more essential question.

"Raphael is a vampire. The head vampire, if I might add, of the New York Clan. He and his clan live at the Hotel Dumort. It's an old abandoned hotel just outside of Manhattan. That's where they're keeping Benji."

"Hotel Dumort. Hotel of Death?" Jesse translated.

"Can't say they don't have a sense of humor." They were walking down the steps, hand in hand when Jesse stopped abruptly, drawing his hand back and running it through his hair. He slapped both his hands down on the railing, and looked outwards toward the city. He respired_. The things that are going through my head right now,_ Jesse thought, _would not be going through a normal person's head. _Beca took his hand back and breathed her hot breath on it. "Jesse, we're gonna get Benji back. I don't want you to worry," she said, as if she could hear his thoughts. Beca nudged him forward, and they started walking again.

"How," Jesse started, "do you plan to do that?"

"Well first, we're going to go back to the Institute. We're going to explain the situation. We're going to go to Dumort, and we're going to get Benji back at whatever cost. It's against the Covenant Law for vampires to mercilessly feast off of the innocent. We shouldn't have much trouble," she concluded.

"And your friends, the other Shadowhunters, they'll help me? Even if I'm a… what do you call it… mundane?"

"Yes. Our purpose is to protect mundanes, as I said before. It would be breaking Covenant Law to ignore the situation."

Jesse and Beca trotted up the steps of the Institute, and with a single touch of Beca's hand, the giant double-doors opened. The doors of any Institute will open under the touch of Shadowhunter blood or skin. There is no other key.

When the doors opened, Jesse was surrounded by the smell of pine and charcoal, with a hint of a homely scent. He guessed it was the natural scent of the Institute, since Beca didn't seem affected. He turned his attention towards the tall, blonde man he had seen the day before running down the steps. His eyes averted to Beca, then to Jesse, and back to Beca.

"Becky, what's the mundane doing here?" he asked. Jesse gave her a weird look that probably said, _Becky?_

"Luke," Beca began, "I can explain—"

"Whoa, is that who I think it is?" said the tall, black-haired girl from earlier as she came into view from a hallway next to the stairs. "Beca, what the hell?"

"I—"

"Beca!" said a ginger who came from the same hallway as the other girl. The three Shadowhunters began assuming and nearly screaming. Jesse could barely make out any of the words they were saying. He caught "mundane" and "by the Angel" a lot, however.

"Luke, Stacie, Chloe, calm _down._" Beca said, flabbergasted at her friends' outbursts. "You guys remember Jesse."

"I remember that he's a mundane. Why've you brought him here?" Luke asked through a thick British accent. "Have you told him anything?"

"Still in the room!" Jesse announced.

"If you'd let me get to that," Beca said, glaring at Luke. She took a deep breath, and then spoke again. "Jesse's in trouble. Rather, his friend. He was taken by rogue vampires in Raphael's clan that work for Lexa." In the midst of her speaking, the three Shadowhunters, shot wild glances at Jesse, who nodded in agreement with Beca.

"And you're okay with all of this?" Chloe asked, her eyes directed her speech at Jesse.

"Okay, no. But I am accepting it. I know what's real and what's not now," Jesse replied.

Beca told Stacie, Luke, and Chloe the rundown about how it had happened. She made up a few parts, leaving out the fact that Jesse had spent the night, amongst other things. Beca was always good at lying, but she never classified herself as a liar. There was always a hint of truth to what she had said, and she believed that the key to a believable lie was a lie with some truth. She also left out the part where Lyla told her about her 'power'.

"I'm going to Dumort, and it is your choice if you want to come with me. But you can't stop me. I have to help Jesse." Beca ended her monologue with a firm voice. So firm, that she surprised herself.

"Of course I'm coming," said Stacie and Chloe simultaneously. Luke however, was crossing his arms and glowering at Jesse. He tapped his fingers against his bicep and rolled his tongue across the inside of his mouth.

"I don't like this idea," said Luke. "How do you know Lyla was telling the truth?"

"We don't. But it makes perfect sense," Beca said.

"All bad things do," Luke countered.

Beca squinted her eyes at him. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, Luke."

Luke blew out a breath. "Yes I do. We're a team. When do we leave?" he asked.

"When you three get geared up. Load up on vampire guns, just in case something goes wrong," Beca instructed.

"And what do I do?" Jesse asked. He wondered why Beca hadn't included him.

"You? You're staying here. I want—you'll be safer if you remain here. And plus, you don't have the proper training," Beca said as she crossed her arms.

"You can't _leave _me here. I want to help. I can't just not do anything," he defended.

"I agree with the mundane. He's the reason we're doing this right?" Luke asked, patting Jesse on the back with mock-consideration. _No, I'm the reason we're doing this_, Beca thought. _I want him safe._

Chloe and Stacie both obliged to Luke's statement. Beca had no choice; she nodded her head in agreement. "Fine. Get… the mundane… suited up. Prepare him for a fight. You have _five _minutes, or I'm leaving without you." With that, she turned on her heel and fled towards the library.

It was Luke who broke the silence. "Chloe, Stacie, I'll meet you in the weapons room in a few minutes," he said, eyeballing Jesse. The two girls nodded and headed upstairs, not stopping to take a second look at Jesse. However, they giggled on the way up.

Jesse turned his head back toward Luke and pressed his lips together. Luke was grinning, but not smiling. Jesse raised his eyebrows.

"It's nice to finally meet you," said Luke as he extended his hand. Jesse shook it with a moment's hesitation.

"You too… I think. I didn't really know you so I wasn't actually looking forward to—"

"And now I have to talk to you about something," the Shadowhunter interrupted.

Jesse narrowed his eyes. "Beca," he said.

"You pick things up quickly for a mundane." When Jesse didn't respond, Luke carried on. "You need to steer clear of her." Jesse opened his mouth to protest, but Luke stopped him by holding up a finger. "Hear me out. I'm_ not_ asking. Once we get your little friend out of this blood bath we're headed in to, you will take him and go home. You will forget about this place. Beca doesn't need this… _thing…_ you two have… in her life. She's a Shadowhunter. You're a mundane. You're a distraction. Deadweight."

Jesse's pulse sped up. Luke was beginning to anger him. "And what thing do we have?" he asked, not even bothering to hide the trembling ire in voice.

"Do not think I wasn't aware of you being here last night. I'm not an idiot," Luke said, scolding Jesse, who now felt as if his heart was going to detonate.

"I don't…"

"Save it," the blonde commanded. "It doesn't matter if you choose to deny it. I know what happened. And I also know that it can't happen again. I'm serious, mundane. I'll say it one more time." Luke grabbed Jesse by the collar of his shirt and forced him forward so he could clearly understand Luke when his voice hushed. "We will get your friend, and you will leave with him. You will forget this world. You will stay _out_ of Beca's life."

"You don't understand. Beca wants—"

"No, mundane, _you _are the one that doesn't understand. You don't know Beca. You knew the old her. Not the new her. _I _know this Beca. And I also know she doesn't need you. She wants you, I know, but it will only affect her negatively."

"I—"

"I'll get you your weapons. Follow me. Don't speak a word of this to Beca," Luke decreed.

* * *

**A/N: I kept adding on to this chapter. First it ended with the sight of blood in the apartment… then I was like nah, vampire time. Why not. Then I ended it at the whole Beca calling the Institute situations, then I was like nah again. Then this happened. So this is the end of the chapter. I think.**

**Also, I saw Pitch Perfect 2 this past Thursday (May 14****th****) and it was so perfect. I loved all the cute little Jeca moments. And Anna Kendrick. Holy shit.**

**Please review!**


	6. Dumort

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 6: Dumort**

* * *

Hotel Dumort has been the home for the New York Clan for ages, even before Raphael Santiago was the leader. The vampires of the Downworld are not like the normal, stereotypical vampires you would find in a fantasy/thriller film or a book of urban legends. Ever since the Accords were established, vampires do not mercilessly feed off of innocent mundanes. They are bound by law to refrain from any temptations to do so, and if that law broken, they will be clan-less. The Accords have kept the peace between Shadowhunters and Downworlders ever since the war.

Then, there are your rogue vampires, or traitors, as Beca would say. Vampires who swore allegiance to Raphael then betrayed him to work with Lexa. They may fit the description of pale, cold skin, fangs, bloodshot eyes, and astonishing beauty, but they're also real assholes. And Beca has only met one.

The hotel itself was a short walk from the Institute. Beca was took the lead with Stacie at her side, Jesse behind them, and Luke and Chloe at the rear. Luke had lent Jesse some of his clothes, and although that was nice of him, Jesse felt uncomfortable. It wasn't because of the tightness of the clothes, which _was_ quite bothersome, but the fact that they came from _Luke _just made him feel uneasy_._ In addition, he was given a dagger and a vampire gun. Stacie taught him how to use both in under a minute. It didn't do him much good; he didn't think he could kill someone if he even wanted to. He wondered if Beca had felt the same way in her first fight.

_Probably not._

Jesse looked at the back of Beca's head, then to her defined back and shoulder muscles under her tank top, to the slim of her waist, her hourglass figure, her perfect ass, down her toned legs, and back up again. Her brunette waves dangled loosely in a ponytail as she walked. She was a thought-provoking, erotic masterpiece in the flesh. The way she moved in her elastic pants and tight black tank top, outlining her unflawed build…

_No. Think of something else. _

Luke's threats were still hovering in his mind. Jesse couldn't quite grasp why the Shadowhunter wanted him gone so badly, or why he thought he was a danger in Beca's life. She should be happy. He made her happy. That was all that mattered, right?

He nearly bumped into her. They had stopped walking.

"We're here," Beca said.

"Where exactly is 'here?'" Jesse inquired, taking in his surroundings. All that was around were closed buildings and apartments. Night had fallen, and there were no people on the streets at this time. Jesse didn't see any hotels.

"What'd you expect, mundie? Neon signs that say 'Vampires this way?'" Stacie joked, as if reading his mind. "The entrance to Dumort is through the hole in the wall."

Jesse gave her an incredulous look. "You mean, like, a bar?"

"No," Chloe said, taking steps into the alley. "An actual hole. In the wall."

Jesse noticed he was the only one still stationary; the others had followed Chloe down the alley and nearly turned the corner. He shook himself out of his brown study and trotted forward. It took him five seconds before he stopped and looked at what the others were staring at. A wall.

"Uh, guys," Jesse started. "What are you staring at? Which way is the hole?"

The glares he received were dubious. Then, as if on cue, Luke spoke up.

"Mundanes won't be able to see it. You'll just have to follow us."

Jesse nodded. _Duh. _

The next second, Chloe and Stacie had disappeared into the brick wall, or, that's what it had seemed like to Jesse. Luke followed sharply behind the other two Shadowhunters. Beca nudged Jesse forward, taking him by surprise; he didn't know she was right behind him. Jesse's legs were moving before he was and suddenly he was on the other side of the wall. All he saw was darkness in all directions, but then a familiar hand squeezed his and he immediately felt reassured.

Beca reached inside her pocket for her witchlight stone and at the touch of her hand, it lit up and illuminated the room with a white light. From what she could make out, Beca saw that they were in a small, narrow hallway full of dust and bones. Human bones.

"That's… refreshing," Chloe said, her face twisted in disgust.

"Shh," Luke hushed. He took cautious steps forward, and beckoned the rest to follow.

"Luke," Beca whispered, causing the blonde to whip his head back. All attention was on her. She removed her stele from her belt and drew a Soundless rune on her ankle and a Nyx rune on her bicep. The others nodded in agreement and did the same. Jesse stood motionless, watching as the half-humans Marked themselves.

"Should I have anything?" Jesse asked, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water with his bare, immaculate arms. Scratch that, a fish on Mars.

"Mundanes can't bear the Marks, Beca should've told you that," Luke deadpanned, not looking at Jesse. "I've got a speed rune too. I advise you three to do the same." He turned his head and stole a quick sideways glance at the mundane. "Jesse, you'll just have to do your best and try not to get bitten—"

"_Luke_." Beca swatted at his arm, then turned to Jesse. "You won't have to fight Jesse, there'll be no reason to."

That relaxed Jesse and slowed his breathing. He didn't want to fight, and he didn't want anyone else to fight. He was hoping for a peaceful bring-back-Benji mission.

Beca motioned for Jesse to follow Stacie and Chloe as they explored down the hallway. He obliged, thinking Beca was following him. It didn't occur to him that she had pulled Luke over for a talk.

"What's your problem?" Beca whispered to Luke once the others were out of earshot.

"I just don't think you should lie to him. We're trespassing; we're all going to have to fight," he deadpanned.

"He's a mundane, Luke! He's not used to this. Why did you insist we bring him if all you're going to do is harass him?"

"To prove a point."

Beca was incredulous. "A _point_?" she repeated. "You're risking Jesse's _life_ to prove a _point_?"

Luke didn't respond; he simply rolled his tongue against his teeth, thinking of how to.

"Beca, Luke," shot a voice from the dark. Chloe's. "You comin'?"

* * *

The Accords state that a vampire cannot feed on any innocent mundane, no matter how bad the thirst. However, one is no longer innocent when they trespass onto clan land. And when a Shadowhunter trespasses, well, the result isn't exactly in their favor. While the Accords stand and the Shadowhunters and vampires of the New York Clan have an alliance, they wouldn't consider themselves as friends.

The five of them were quietly—no, _silently_—tiptoeing down the corridors when they heard it. A cry for help. It was hardly a cry; it was more like a shriek. Then they heard the pitter patter of feet on the ground, and something collapsed in front of them. _Someone_ collapsed in front of them.

"Help!" the boy yelled again, coughing up blood. Jesse stepped forward and reached down to help the young boy, but someone held him back.

It was Beca. "Jesse, no."

"He's hurt," Jesse retorted back, shrugging her hand off and bending down so he was face to face with the boy. Beca shot worried glances at each of her friends, and then they all bent down. "What's your name?" The little boy, probably about 14, looked up at Jesse with wide eyes, then back at the ground.

"I… m—my name is—is," he coughed up more blood. "Tobias."

"Tobias," Jesse repeated. "What happened to you?"

"My—my brother. They took him. There were so many. I… I did not know what to do. So I ran."

"So many what?" asked Luke, shining his witchlight so there was more light on the Tobias. Beca squinted her eyes to get a closer look at him.

The boy was tanned, she could tell, yet his skin looked white in the light. He also had a slight accent that Beca couldn't quite identify. His hair was as black as pitch, and his eyes were dark. He was covered in dirt and dried blood, some of it matting his hair.

"My family… the elders used to tell stories about pale-faced creatures of the night. I did not think they were true…" Tobias looked behind him. "Please. I have to go back for my brother. Please help me."

"Of course we'll help you," said Beca.

"Becky…" Luke shook his head at her. "I don't know if this is a good idea." _Becky?! _Jesse thought to himself once again.

"We can't just leave the kid to fend for himself in a vampire lair," Beca stated. Chloe and Stacie nodded in agreement with Beca, even though it strayed from protocol.

"Maybe we should split up. You know, kill two birds with one stone." Jesse added. He was given looks of uncertainty.

"I don't know. I think we should stay together," said Stacie. Chloe and Luke looked at Beca for her opinion.

Beca had been thinking of the possible outcomes, and she realized, the pros outweighed the cons. If they split up, they could find Benji _and_ Tobias's brother and get out before the vampires realize they're there. They'd have a better chance of getting out if they work faster.

"No, it's a good idea," she answered. "I'll go with Jesse and find Benji. You three stay with Tobias and find his brother. We'll meet back here in thirty minutes. Like Jesse said, we're killing two birds with one stone."

Luke's expression didn't change. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and his eyes were narrowed. "Fine," he finally verbalized. "But if one party doesn't make it back in time…"

"We'll make it back in time," Beca finished.

* * *

Tobias was leading the way, saying he knew his way back. Luke, Stacie, and Chloe continued down the corridor while Jesse and Beca took a sharp left turn into the next hall, now out of sight. The corridor opened up into a dim-lit ballroom with ripped table cloths and rusty silverware. It looked like a scene from a horror movie, or Ghostbusters.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Luke asked, primarily to Tobias, who was coughing.

"Yes," he said once his throat cleared, and then paused. "I sense the uncertainty in your voice. Your friends will find Benji, do not worry."

Chloe stopped dead in her tracks, followed by Stacie and Luke.

"What is the problem? They are this way," said Tobias. Luke could see him more clearly now. His cheekbones and jawline were unnaturally defined, as if he applied a contour.

The three Shadowhunters exchanged glances, and all nodded. That was the thing about them; they had been a team for years, along with Beca, and they all thought the same when it came to dangerous scenarios like this one.

"We didn't tell you his name, how would you have known that?" Stacie verbalized. Luke was reaching for the dagger in his back pocket as he backed up to Chloe's side. The three Shadowhunters all now had blades in hand, and were staring knives into Tobias.

All he did was laugh.

* * *

Beca took Jesse's hand and led him down the new hallway. Tobias had pointed her in that direction, drawing attention to the fresh blood on the floor that may as well have been Benji's. Together the two of them followed the blood through three winding hallways until they reached an opening. Beca assumed they were above ground now; the floors as they walked had a slight incline, and when she looked up she saw a hole in the ceiling with moonlight shining through. There were ropes hanging from the ceiling; maybe it could be a way out of nothing else. Then, her eyes followed the ropes down, and she saw exactly what she didn't want to see.

Benji.

Hanging by his arms.

"Jesse," she breathed, catching his attention. He was checking out the old books lying around, but his head snapped back to Beca when he heard the anxiety in her tone. She was staring up. He followed her gaze to where the ropes hung from the ceiling, and finally to the body that hung from the ropes.

Jesse was running before he knew it. Beca followed close at his heels, catching him just before he almost stepped into the deep hole Benji was hanging over.

"Benji!" Jesse whisper-yelled. Beca looked for any signs of life, but saw none.

"Jesse… I don't think he's al—"

"Yes he is." He cut her off. "I would have—I would have felt him die. We've gotta get him down."

Beca wanted to roll her eyes and tell him this was a waste of time, but decided against it for Jesse's sake. She surveyed the room for something, _anything_ that could help. Her eyes fell on a pile of wooden planks, most broken, but one had to be full. The hole spanned about six-by-twelve feet, so all they needed was, maybe, a ten foot plank. Or whatever they could find, really. Beca shuffled through the pile for a few minutes before finding possibly the only whole plank in the vicinity.

"Jesse, help me move this," she commanded. He ran over to aid her, and together they placed the board across the hole. Jesse stepped carefully on one side and Beca on the other, and they met in the middle, carefully untying the ropes and carrying Benji to safety. Beca felt a heartbeat on his cold, lifeless-looking body. For a moment, he didn't even flinch. Beca laid him down on the ground, and Jesse held his head.

"C'mon Benji…," Jesse pleaded.

Still nothing. Then, just as Beca was about to make the decision to leave him here and go find the others, a groan came from Benji's mouth, and then a cough, and then he opened his eyes. They flicked between Jesse and Beca several times, before he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"J-Jesse?" he choked out.

"Yeah, man, we're here. You're okay," said Jesse.

"Here? We? Where is… who is…," he paused, and then weakly scrambled backwards when he saw Beca. "No, no, no, no. You can't—can't be here. You…"

"Benji, calm down." Beca's voice was reassuring. "We'll be out of here before you know it."

"No, you don't understand," Benji said. "Th-they don't want me. They want _you_. They want the Cup."

A chill went down Beca's spine. She always found it remarkable how a simple word or phrase could go in through your ears, but you'd feel it down in your toes. If Benji knew about the Cup _because _of the vampires, that means they were probably done with him, and that he wouldn't have lived if they had come any later. "What do you know about the Cup?" she asked.

"Beca!" Jesse whisper-yelled. "Now is _not _the time!"

He was right, Beca decided. He'd be questioned later. The most important thing was finding Luke, Chloe, and Stacie now. She hauled Benji up and slug his arm over her shoulders, and Jesse ran over to do the same with his other arm.

There were too many doors that led out of the room, and Jesse didn't remember which one they came through. Beca seemed just as confused. The hallway they were walking down now was more winding than the one they came through, and it just felt… off.

"Beca, I don't think this is the right—"

There was a loud bang that came from a distant room, forcing Jesse silent. It sounded like something had hit the floor with great weight. Then there was another bang, and another, and then there was silence.

"Beca?" Jesse whispered, but it wasn't much use. She had taken off in a run, dragging the two mundanes behind her. Benji was walking, but he felt weaker and weaker by the minute. After what felt just ten seconds, they came into a clearing, but not much of one. There was a balcony that looked out over a giant abandoned ballroom, and stairs that led down. Beca motioned for Jesse and Benji to stay back, and they obliged. She started forward, very slow and soundlessly; Jesse guessed it was her Soundless rune. He was beginning to understand the whole rune-process, and even beginning to recognize some. The runes he recognized on her skin were two iratzes, or healing runes, a Soundless rune, a Nyx rune, and a Speed rune. The others were unknown to him.

Beca jumped backward, still as quiet as a mouse. "There's a room full of vampires down there," she said, finally. When there was no response, she turned around and saw that there were two vampires behind her, holding Jesse and Benji, and staring right at her. They each held a hand over both of their mouths, but Jesse's eyes communicated enough message.

* * *

"You are very clever. All of you. Though, not as clever as I. In fact, you are not very clever at all. For you to have followed me all this way proves it."

There was a loud bang, and then two more, and then there were over twenty vampires each to the left and right. More and more piled out from behind the darkness. They were all pale and had shadows around their eyes. Soon enough, there were over a hundred vampires in the ballroom, if they were to do a headcount.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked. It was the question they were all wondering.

Tobias, if that was even his name, looked pleased with himself. "I am Raphael Santiago. Leader of the New York Vampire Clan. And you are trespassing." The three Shadowhunters had moved into a back-to-back circle without realizing it, and Tobias—_Raphael_—was circling them. "That gives us certain… rights."

"Where is Benji? That's all we came for. Nothing else. We'll take him and we'll leave. Promise," Stacie added.

"No can do, madam."

"We don't want to fight," said Luke.

"Then the odds are in our favor."

* * *

Beca was thinking fast, as she always did. Female vampires tended to be much cleverer than male vampires, and, fortunately, the vampires standing in front of her were male. One was simply supporting Benji in his weak state, and the other had a grip on Jesse. The vampire held him on the biceps, and had a leg locking Jesse's ankle in place. A vampire's grip was stronger than a human grip, but her strength and the vampire's strength were nearly equal because of the Strength rune she had drawn on herself earlier. Her physical observations took merely four seconds, and then she lodged into action. She whipped her seraph blade out and whispered, "_Nakir_," and the sword blazed up in light. It temporarily blinded the two vampires, and it made her first strike simple: she jabbed the blade forward, slicing the arm of the vampire holding Jesse. Bright red blood sprayed Jesse's shirt, but the vampire had loosened his grip. Jesse ran to Beca's side, and took out a throwing knife. Not like he'd use it.

"_Nephilim_," the vampire spoke in disgust. "Trespassers."

"What was your first guess? The runes, scent, or the pain in your groin?" Beca teased.

The vampire looked down, confused. "What are you—"

Beca slashed down his front and kicked him where no man, even a vampire, would want to be kicked. The other vampire holding Benji released him and advanced on Beca. She felt the adrenaline from battle pulsating through her veins; it was her favorite feeling. A grin was forming in the corners of her mouth.

She stole a side kick to the second vampire's abdomen, making him double backwards. Then, she pulled out a second sword, one in each hand.

"It seems you are at a disadvantage, little Nephilim. Two against one," said the second vampire. The one Beca had kicked in the groin had stood back up, the large gash in his stomach already healed.

"I'm not the one at the disadvantage."

And then, the real fighting began. Her blades flashed through the air like lightning, and Jesse and Benji watched in horror as the small brunette fought off two large vampires. She swung her sword forward, using her whole body to drive the force and striking from above to add the power of gravity to her strike. The sword imbedded itself in the first vampire's heart, and it sank to the ground, lying still. The blade fell, and Beca was left with only one sword, but it was all she needed.

She balanced the sword in her hands. She knew to hold a two-handed sword just below the ribcage; Luke had taught her that. Legs should be balanced with equal weight on them, and the sword should be swung from the shoulders, not the arms.

The second vampire was slowly approaching her. Beca couldn't quite tell if he was pissed, afraid, or both. This vampire used its speed to his advantage; he caught at Beca's arm just before she swung and threw her to the ground. Beca, being prepared for anything and everything, held onto the blade as she fell so she would not be at the greater disadvantage.

The vampire pounced, but Beca was fast, too. She rolled to the side, pausing at Jesse's feet, then she bounced onto all fours, and swung her blade as she stood up. It struck the vampire's side. She brought her knee up high, the key to a good kick, and shot her foot out, knocking the vampire over. She reached for a small throwing knife on her weapons belt and through it at the vampire's eye, where it implanted itself perfectly. The vampire scrambled backwards, and fled.

Beca was breathing hard. She picked up her fallen seraph blade and sheathed it in her weapons belt. Jesse and Benji were staring at her like, well, like she had just killed someone.

Jesse spoke up. "Beca, I'm sorry, I should have—"

"New plan," she announced. "Stay behind me, but this time, keep your eyes open. And try not to get killed."

"Beca—"

"Please just do as I say."

Jesse could detect no humor in her voice, just the stern assertion of a leader. He wouldn't admit it, but he was beginning to think Luke was right.

He doesn't know this Beca as much as he believed he did an hour ago. This Beca was trained more than a CIA agent. Her mindset was different, her opinions, her knowledge, her impulses, everything was different.

The two of them grew up together, making mudpies, going on adventures, watching movies, even if Beca was forced to, seeing Broadway shows, everything. He watched her grow up. He remembered the first day he noticed her build was changing into something more ladylike. Her hips and waist had altered, and she was no longer flat-chested. She was always short, however. That would never change.

Now, she was more closed-off than she had been. She was guarded in a way, the only was that the barriers surrounding her were built there by herself, for herself, and because of herself. He only hoped to understand every part of her. Even when they were together, he couldn't force himself to push her to reveal everything about herself. It just wasn't something you did to Beca. She'd tell you when she was ready.

This was a new life. New friends. New responsibilities. That was the other thing; she was much more mature now when it came to responsibility. With her maturity came selflessness as well. She put her friends before herself. He could tell, even if he'd only known this Beca for a short time.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a voice that sounded like it should have been right in front of him, but was actually on the ballroom floor.

"Rebeca, so nice of you to join us," said the voice. Beca looked over the balcony, and she first made eye contact with the three she was afraid she would see: Luke, Stacie, and Chloe. She saw that Tobias was with them, but there was something different about him. Something off.

Then it clicked.

"I am Raphael," 'Tobias' said. "You are just in time. We were just talking about… business. Please, come join us."

Beca, seeing no other options, glanced over her shoulder at Jesse and Benji and mouthed '_stay'_, and then hopped over the balcony and landed lightly on her feet. The crowd of vampires stepped out of her way, making a path to her friends and Raphael. She shot a few icy glares at some of the vampires as she walked by, but she reserved her bitch face for Raphael.

Once she was in reach, he placed a hand on the small of her back. She didn't it take too kindly, but she also knew better than to resist.

"Finally, all of you together. Now, I must ask…," he turned to Beca and crossed his arms over his chest, "Where is the Cup?"

She rolled her eyes. _Of course. _

"Look," Beca began, "for the _millionth _time, and to the _millionth _person or thing who has asked us: We. Do. Not. Have. The. Cup."

Raphael shrugged as his vampires laughed. "If it is a fight you want, it is a fight you shall have."

"Bec, we're outnumbered," said Chloe, whispering in her ear.

"Have a little faith," Stacie countered. She earned incredulous looks. There were at least two hundred lightning fast, hulk-strong vampires in this room, surrounding them. It was a suicide battle. If they fought, they would surely be slaughtered. There was no doubt about it. But there were no other alternatives.

Dying in battle is the way most Shadowhunters go, and the way most of them _want _to go. The life of a Shadowhunter isn't long—you're lucky if you live to be as old as Aloysius Starkweather was. He lived to be 89, until he was killed in an ambush in London in the seventeenth century.

Beca, since she had become a Shadowhunter, always saw herself dying for her friends (or for Jesse, but she wouldn't tell anyone that). This was a similar situation, but it just wasn't good enough. If she died here, what would she be remembered by? The mundane girl who abandoned her father and gets her friends and family killed?

Then, as if on cue, there was a crash like glass shattering. In fact, it was glass shattering. The windows of Dumort had smashed open, and outpoured an entire werewolf pack, or at least what looked like it. There were over twenty fully-transformed wolves, and they all jumped in the middle of crowds of vampires and lodged into action. The vampires were paying no attention to the Shadowhunters anymore.

"Beca!" she heard Jesse yell. Her instincts had her up the rail and on the balcony by Jesse's side in less than four seconds. To her relief, he was perfectly fine. Stacie, Luke, and Chloe were right behind her. She released a breath she didn't know she had been holding in.

Looking over the balcony, there were over twenty wolves now, she could see, taking on countless vampires at a time, and winning.

"We should help them," Beca declared.

"Becky, no. They saved our asses. We can't let that choice, however spontaneous it was, be in vain. We should leave, before more vampires find us," Luke said.

And just like that, there was an immeasurable amount of footsteps coming from the door they had emerged into the ballroom out of. There was shouting as well.

"In fact, we should leave now. Right now."

"I agree," said Jesse. He had Benji slumped over him, and he didn't look right.

"Jesse?" Beca asked. "Is Benji okay?"

He had a puzzled expression plastered onto his face, until he looked over at his friend, who was literally drooping over his shoulder. He wasn't using Jesse for support. He was using Jesse, because if he didn't, he'd fall to the ground. Unconscious.

"We need to get him back to the Institute," she said. The group didn't hesitate; Luke helped Jesse hoist Benji to the exit, and together they plunged into the night.

* * *

**A/N: This took forever for some reason. Sorry for the wait. **

**Please review! x**


	7. The Past

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 7: The Past**

**A/N: Visuals are always available. Search "Silent Brothers" on google (for this chapter and the next).**

* * *

Three Years Ago

"Jonathan, stop pacing. She'll be home soon," said Sheila, trying and failing to calm her husband.

Dr. John Mitchell clearly told his daughter Beca to be home at or before nine o'clock. It wasn't safe for her to be out late—he knew that more than any other father. Any Downworlder could smell her dominant Shadowhunter blood from a mile away. It was simply too dangerous.

"It's 10:30." John continued to pace. "She was supposed to be home over an _hour _ago. What if something… No, I'm calling the police," he decided.

"The police? She's most likely _just with Jesse_. I could practically smell the lies on her, saying she'd be home on time." Sheila paused. "You need to tell her, John. When she comes back, you need to take her to Magnus. Give her back her memories. She needs to _know_. At least before we leave."

"I can't do that. I can't put this—this _burden_ on her. I _can't._ Even if I wanted to, it would take days, months even. That's time that we don't have. I need to get her out of New York as soon as possible."

"The Silent Brothers then? They work quicker." Sheila offered.

"I can't put her through that either. She's too inexperienced. She could go insane. I don't trust their type of magic."

The Silent Brothers. They were the archivists and medics of the Nephilim. They have taken upon themselves the most powerful runes known to the Shadow World in order to strengthen their minds. These runes were permanent ones, and becoming a Silent Brother was an unchangeable fate, and an incredible sacrifice. The process itself was a lot of pain and agony, and on top of that, you had to sever all ties with your mortal self.

They had different methods for different things. For repressed memories, it was more of a painful one.

There was a knock at the door. Both Sheila and John eyed it suspiciously, because _Beca _always had her key. Who would be knocking at the door at 10:30 at night?

John walked over to it with a dagger in hand, a dagger that he always kept with him wherever he went. It was undetectable, because of the adamas it was made out of. Sheila was behind him, half-morphed into a werewolf.

They knocked again.

John took another step, and flung the door open ready to strike, then paused.

"Woah!" said the person at the door. She was clearly taken aback at the half-morphed werewolf and the guy holding a decorative knife to her throat. Sheila immediately turned back into a human, and John put his weapon down.

"Emily? What ever are you doing here?" Sheila asked. Emily closed the door behind her, and the three walked into the kitchen and sat down.

Emily Junk never visited unless it was for important news. Important _Downworld or Nephilim_ news. She was kind of Sheila and John's messenger, but also close and dear friend. Even if she was only thirteen.

"Is Beca okay?" was the first thing John asked.

"I… that's not why I'm here. Lexa has resurfaced. I'm here for warning. Where's Beca?" Emily inquired.

John knew the answer to that. "She's mis—"

"She's with Jesse," Sheila cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder. Emily just nodded.

"Where… did Lexa resurface?" asked John.

Emily eyed both John and Sheila very carefully before replying. "London. Then Los Angeles. We can only assume she'll head for New York next."

Dr. Mitchell sat back in his chair and sighed. He knew this would happen. It was only a matter of time. He just didn't think it would happen so soon.

"Emily, can I ask you to do something for me?" Sheila said. Emily raised her eyebrows, like it was a dumb question. She would do anything for Sheila. "I need you to find Beca and watch after her. Can you do that?"

"Of course. I'll go now."

"Thank you."

The three stood up for a group hug, and then Emily closed and locked the door behind her.

John and Sheila stood in silence for a while, thinking of what to do next. They stood silently for minutes. Then, there was another knock. No, not a knock. Someone was _pounding _on the door. The couple glanced over, and then the door was knocked off its hinges.

Lexa's men entered the scene.

* * *

Present Time

It took roughly fifteen minutes for Beca to figure out that they were being followed.

Not by someone, but by some_thing._

They had been relatively close to the Institute. Beca turned around at the sound of a light pitter-patter and, in the dark of the night, saw two glowing yellow eyes—the eyes of a werewolf. Her Nyx rune had kicked in, and she saw the werewolf turn around and run. She didn't give it much thought after it had fled, because saving Benji was more important. And, a werewolf couldn't tread on the holy grounds of the Institute in wolf form. It was against the Accords.

They had gotten to the infirmary of the Institute in a matter of minutes after that. Benji was laid down on a bed, still unconscious.

Now, Beca, Stacie, Jesse, Luke, and Chloe were all mending to Benji.

"We need more supplies," Chloe said. "Jesse, do you mind going down to the cellar and bringing me the stuff on…," she paused to scribble something on a piece of paper, "this list?" She handed it to Jesse.

He read the list, and he only knew one of the things on it. Neosporin. The rest was Shadow-world-weird-stuff. "I don't exactly know what any of this is… or where the cellar is," said Jesse. "Is this stuff… safe...? On Benji?"

"Of course it's safe. But it's not every day we have to manually heal someone. Luke, go with Jesse and help him," Beca ordered, pressing a cold washcloth to Benji's forehead and not looking up. Luke tried to protest, but Beca gave him her famous look that said: _If you don't do as I say, I will kill you in your sleep. _Both men had seen that look one too many times.

Luke fearfully cleared his throat. "Alright then. Jesse?" he nodded his head toward the doorway and started walking. Jesse followed.

They walked in silence down the stairs Jesse had come up during his first time in the Institute. _So_ that_ was the room I was in, _thought Jesse. He could see it better now that it was illuminated with Luke's witchlight stone. There were several doors on each side of the hallway, and the walls were made with stone all the way through.

Luke reached inside his pocket and took out a ring of keys. There were at least fifteen giant keys on that one keyring.

"Hold this for a second, mate," Luke said, handing over the witchlight stone. The light dimmed and flickered out as soon as Luke let go of it. He snatched it back. "Never mind. Forgot."

"What? Why won't it work for me?" Jesse asked, now suddenly curious.

Luke didn't answer. Instead he put the witchlight in his mouth and shuffled through the keys, picking out one and turning it into the locked door. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open.

He took the stone out of his mouth and continued to hold it in his hand. "It's _angelic._ It only works for Shadowhunters, because we have angel blood. It doesn't work for mundanes or Downworlders."

"But faeries have angel blood, right? Wouldn't it work for them?"

"No."

"No to my first question, or—"

"Are you going to ask questions the whole time we're down here? We've more important things to do."

Inside the supply room, it was more illuminated. There must have been hundreds upon hundreds of jars of assorted chemicals and objects like faerie wings and other Downworlder spoils. There was also an entire section dedicated to different types of blood—not human blood, however. More like LB 217 and other bloods Jesse couldn't recognize.

Luke grabbed vials and jars from the shelves and handed all of them to Jesse. He didn't know how he was managing to carry all of these objects, but he _did _know that if he were to carry one more, he would drop them all on himself. Luke didn't seem to care.

Jesse wondered what kind of relationship he and Beca had in Beca's missing years—that's what Jesse titled the three years they had been apart.

_I wonder if they ever… _

_No. She wouldn't._

It had crossed his mind a few times, whether Luke and Beca had ever been a little more than friends while Jesse was out of the picture. He always pushed the thought away. He told himself Beca wouldn't do that. But he _knows_ he doesn't know this Beca as well as he thought—at least, now he knows that. So that thought… it's been lingering in his head for the last few hours.

_Maybe if I asked—_

His thoughts were interrupted when he tripped over his own foot, almost dropping the countless chemicals he was carrying.

"You shouldn't think so hard. It's deadly," Luke said, as if on cue.

Jesse scoffed and adjusted himself. "I wasn't thinking hard. I was just—"

"You also shouldn't lie. I can see right through those things."

Jesse stayed silent.

And now, as he has felt in all Luke-related situations, he wanted to get out of here and back to Beca and the rest as soon as possible.

* * *

When Luke and Jesse walked back into the infirmary, Stacie was arguing with her mom, Maryse Lightwood, and Beca.

"… erase his memory while she's getting hers back. The Silent Brothers can do it," said Maryse.

Beca groaned. "I really don't—"

"We are _not_ doing that to her! She didn't want to three years ago, so why would she want to today?" Stacie yelled.

"Stacie, please. Don't yell," Beca breathed. She looked like she had had enough of this, and as if one more word would make her explode.

"We don't have much choice, Anastacia!" Maryse bellowed. "Lexa is coming. We all know it. If Beca—"

"If Beca what?" Jesse asked. At the mention of Beca's name, he was suddenly intrigued in the conversation. Jesse looked from Beca, to Stacie, to Chloe, and then back. "Beca? What's going on? What are you guys talking about? Is everything—"

Beca growled in frustration. "Everything's fine, Jesse. Don't worry about it."

"I'm gonna worry about it!" he exclaimed. "If you don't want to do anything, they can't force—"

"By the Angel… It's not even your concern! Back _off_."

"Yes it is, actually. _You _are my concern, therefore any controversial topic that has to do with you, I will be concerned about it."

"_Don't_."

Silence.

She stared at him without blinking. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, and her knuckles were turning white. "I am _not _your concern."

_Well, that hurt._

There was an awkward pause. Jesse cleared his throat, frowning. "Right. My bad. I, um, have the… stuff. Just… tell me when he wakes up." He placed the chemicals on the table, turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him.

"Dammit!" Beca slammed her fist into the wall. She really ought to stop doing that; she'd break her hand one day. "_I _make decisions for myself," she went on. "Stacie, I appreciate it, but Maryse is right. Call the Silent Brothers as soon as possible. I need my memories back."

* * *

_What have you gotten yourself into Jesse? _

His mind was racing. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid_. He shouldn't have come. He's just causing them more trouble than they need. Hell, he's even endangered Benji.

He didn't know where he was going. Jesse kept walking and then turned into a random room—which just so happened to be the library.

_Great. More Shadowhunter-shit._

He admired his surroundings. Really, if you ignored the fact that this was an _actual_ safe haven from _actual _demons that _actually_ existed, the place was beautiful. Strong base, intricate designs, pillars and columns… the list goes on and on. His sister, an aspiring architect at age 11, would flip if she saw this.

Jesse had never been in the library before now. Obviously, a lot of time was spent in here. There were books stashed not only on the bookshelves (that seriously covered two walls), but also in corners and on tables.

On one table in particular, there was an open book and pictures spread out. Jesse climbed down the stairs and approached the table, and what he saw was so, _so _confusing.

The book was a diary, and the pictures… they were of Beca's dad, and of a woman that was not Sheila.

He opened the diary. It was Dr. John Mitchell's, and it was dated back to the winter of 1993… a few winters before Beca's birth, which was in the winter of 1996.

_I shouldn't be reading this_, Jesse thought. _This isn't my business._

_Then again… it was left out on the table…_

He started reading.

_January 3__rd__, 1993_

_Today was the first day I witnessed my Alexandria's circle of friends, "The Circle." I only observed, as she asked me to. She asked for my presence and opinions, though I think she was merely trying to flatter me. Like she needs to…_

_Alexandria, my beautiful wife. I believe she will do extraordinary things with the Circle. They are going to reform the Clave for the better. I see it…_

_J. M._

Jesse was thinking out loud. "Who is Alexandria? Sheila… Sheila was Dr. Mitchell's wife. Not Alexandria. Right…?" He flipped the pages.

_February 19__th__, 1993_

_I have noticed strange behavior in my wife, and her activities beneath the house. She has been staying in the cellars for extended periods of time… and I have tried to ignore it, but I cannot any longer. There have been cries and screams coming from below the floor._

_J. M._

_February 23__rd__, 1993_

_The direction Alexandria is taking the Circle… I do not like it. It is no longer about reforming the Clave… they are hunting down and hurting innocent Downworlders. _

_Sheila is my only trusted friend in the Circle… I can go to her with this. And I will. I will write back tomorrow with news. _

J. M.

"So… Sheila is his friend… and this Alexandria woman is his wife?" Jesse asked himself, trying to organize his thoughts.

_January 24__th__, 1993_

_I am confused. I am rereading and rereading the previous entries, and I cannot recall writing any of it. It is like my memories have been stolen. _

_But anyway, Alexandria has told me news. She is pregnant! _

_J. M._

"Pregnant? But this is years before Beca was born….," Jesse said to himself.

_January 30__th__, 1993_

_Sheila has been Turned into a werewolf. I cannot fathom this._

_J. M._

Jesse squinted his eyes. John's handwriting was shaky in the next entry.

_February 1__st__, 1993_

_I cannot express the unbearable sadness I am feeling. Alexandria had taken Sheila into the woods (she would not let me console Sheila). When she returned, she told me Sheila had killed herself. I am grief-stricken…_

_J. M._

"This doesn't make sense… Sheila didn't die until about three years ago." Jesse flipped forward a few pages, and continued reading.

_February 23__rd__, 1993_

_Alexandria has begun to inject herself with something… dark. I believe it to be a type of blood, but she wouldn't do that to our child, would she?_

_I cannot come up with any reason as to why she wouldn't. She has even become suspicious of me…_

_J. M._

_April 6__th__, 1993_

_I do apologize for my absence. My dear Alexandria has been watching me carefully. And, she has not stopped injecting herself. I see her do it. Every day, and every night. I can no longer bring this book out. I must hide it. I am sorry._

_J. M._

Jesse breathed deeply. If Alexandria and John were together, and pregnant in 1993, wouldn't that make Beca a few years older? And the demon blood… wouldn't that make Beca…

_October 27__th__, 1993_

_I am back… but I don't…_

_I have gazed into my daughter's eyes for the first time. And what I saw, that was not… my daughter…_

_I knew something was very wrong with her, that she was inhuman. Her eyes, they were black. Not just the pupil and iris, but the sclera as well. It is as if her pupil had extended over her entire eye. It is DEMONIC. _

_I feel incredible guilt for being unable to love my child. But I cannot love a monster._

_J. M. _

"What the hell are you doing with that?" said a voice. Jesse was so lost in the diary, he didn't even hear Beca, or see her until she was right next to him. She snatched the book up. Jesse's eyes widened, and he was speechless. "Well?"

"I—Beca, I—You're—"

"Stop. I was looking for you so I could be mad at you for sticking your nose in something that you shouldn't, but this… this just _adds. _What were you doing with this? How much did you read?" she demanded. He was still at a loss for words.

"I…" He gathered his thoughts. "I read enough. I know… that you're part de—"

Beca pushed him back on the desk and covered his mouth with her hand. "Don't say it. Do. Not. Say. It."

They stared at each other for what felt like a full minute. Then, Beca lifted her hand off his face and collapsed, crying. She was breaking down. "I don't know how… I don't understand it either," she sobbed. Jesse immediately acted and pulled her into his embrace.

"It's not your fault," he said and immediately regretted it. That was hardly ever comforting.

"I'm a monster, Jess. Even my dad thinks so."

How does he respond to that? He read the same thing she did. There wasn't any way around it.

"Maybe… maybe the effects wore off. You don't seem demonic. You aren't demonic," said Jesse.

"The vampire I fought at your place… she said I had a power. What if she was talking about this?"

They sat in silence for a while. Jesse just didn't know what to say.

Beca wiped her tears. This wasn't her. She shrugged Jesse off of her and stood up, and he followed. It didn't even take her a full minute to recover. She gathered up the pictures and the diary, and hid them in plain sight—the bookshelf.

"You will not speak a word of this." She wasn't asking. "As far as you know, you haven't read a word of that. Got it?"

He nodded and hugged her again.

The door of the library opened. "Oh good. You guys made up." The voice was Chloe's. "Sorry to interrupt. Beca, someone's here to see you."

"The Silent Brothers?" asked Beca.

"No, actually it's—"

A girl pushed past Chloe. She had long, brown hair, and she looked about fifteen or sixteen.

She cleared her throat. "Hi. My name's Emily. Emily Junk. I have a message."

* * *

**A/N: Let me know what you thought of this chapter :)**


	8. The Descent into Hell

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 8: The Descent into Hell**

**A/N: I made a mistake in the last chapter. The dates for the diary entries got mixed up. The first five were all supposed to be in January (I typed February on accident for like two of them). **

* * *

Earlier That Morning, Around 2AM

Beca knew it was risky. She had only been up there once, and she had run away because it was too painful. But it was different now.

She snuck out of bed, careful not to wake Jesse, pulled on a bathrobe, and quietly closed the door behind her.

Her father's old bedroom was six stories above hers. The room hadn't been touched in years—not since Mr. Mitchell fled from the Institute into hiding. A lot of his stuff remained there, but it was strictly warded off. Shadowhunters weren't supposed to go through the archives of a deceased Shadowhunter unless they needed the room cleared or needed to investigate a crime. It's an old way of showing respect.

But Beca had her own rules.

With the news that her father may still be alive, Beca knew what she had to do. She had to find something personal of her father's, bring it to a warlock to do a tracking spell, and find her dad. His old room was the only place she could think of that would hold anything dear of his. She had to do this. And she had to do it alone.

She approached the door to the bedroom with caution. Not many Shadowhunters that lived at the Institute lived above the third floor—in fact, none did. Many New York and surrounding Shadowhunters had a room at the Institute, even if they didn't actively live there. Above the third floor, you would find the rooms of Shadowhunters that now live in Alicante, Idris at their family's home or at the Shadowhunter Academy, or the rooms of the deceased that hadn't been cleared out by family members.

Beca twisted the knob and the door creaked open. Inside, there was an unkempt bed, a desk filled with old papers, a bookcase, and everything else essential to a Shadowhunter bedroom. In a dusty dresser she found her father's old Shadowhunter gear, along with other clothes and jewelry. Beca picked up a thin black chain that had a Shadowhunter family ring on it, engraved with an 'M'.

_M? For Mitchell?_

But that was impossible. It had to stand for something else. Beca knew her real last name couldn't be Mitchell, because that was not a Shadowhunter name. Luke had told her the story a couple years ago.

No one knew Jonathan Mitchell's real Shadowhunter name. The year Beca was born, supposedly, he hired a warlock to wipe all of the records of anything to do with him and his last name, and to erase his last name from everyone's minds. The warlock was—again, _supposedly_—forced to feed the memories to a memory demon to get rid of them forever. Jonathan then went into hiding with Beca as a normal human, under the alias Dr. John Mitchell, high school teacher. No one knows why. Supposedly.

She examined the ring and saw that it was also engraved with two stars on each side of the M. She decided she would ask Luke about it later. She clasped the necklace around her neck; it fit perfectly, just between her collarbones. It hung slightly above her SM necklace.

Wandering over to the desk, she shuffled through the scattered and crumpled papers. Why were there so many crumpled up papers?

She looked over at the trashcan by the desk and saw that there were even more papers, filling up the trashcan and surrounding it with the ones that wouldn't fit. She opened up a discarded paper—it was a letter in her dad's handwriting. It was dated back to January 31st, 1996, three days after her birthday.

_January 31__st__, 1996_

_My dearest Alexandria, _

_My time with you, in its earliest years, was time well spent. Please know that I loved you and supported you, and that I cannot any longer. Thank you for at least giving me one child. _

_I assume you have noted my absence. I have taken Rebeca and fled. __I will not__ I cannot tell you where. I want to apologize, but I am not the one at fault. I tried to stay. I tried to make this work like it did in our first year of marriage. But I can't._

_I tried to make you understand that what you are doing is wrong. __I do not__I can't __I won't_

"Alexandria?" Beca whispered. "So that's my real mom's name."

So Sheila really wasn't her biological mother. She had found that out three years ago, but that didn't mean she wanted it to be true. But why would her dad leave this Alexandria woman?

Beca opened up a few more letters; all of them contained the same amount of disappointment as the first goodbye letter. She trotted over to the trashcan and emptied its contents. Out poured at least fifty letters, and then a thump.

A book.

More importantly, a journal. Her dad's journal.

She began flipping through it.

* * *

Present Day: Los Angeles Institute

"Mother," said a blonde Shadowhunter. She was tall, and her eyes were black as pitch. There was a certain beauty to the darkness—like a storm brewing in her eyes and a hurricane in her voice. "The Carstairs girl and the Blackthorn family aren't here. We've checked the premises. They must've gone through a portal."

"Find them," Lexa demanded.

The children had escaped. Under Lexa Morgenstern's grip, Andrew Blackthorn managed to smile.

* * *

Present Day: New York Institute

"So you, a fourteen year old child, mean to tell us, specially trained Shadowhunters, that the most dangerous Shadowhunter in all of Shadowhunter history, wants to create an army of Dark Shadowhunters?" Luke asked. "That sounds entirely logical. Breakthrough of the century, everybody." He began to slowly clap. _Herondales._

Beca, Jesse, Chloe, Stacie, Luke, and Emily were all gathered in the library now. Emily requested—rather, _forced_—an urgent meeting, saying that it could not wait, not even a minute.

"I'm fifteen. And I've been told I look at _least _sixteen," Emily replied defensively. "And it's true! Well, sort of. Lexa needs the Mortal Cup to activate her army, so I've heard. Right now she just has a bunch of followers rounded up. Humans that want to be Shadowhunters. Ex-Circle members. Shadowhunters that want to work for her… so I've heard." She turned to Beca. "She knows your dad hid the Cup, and she knows your dad told you where it is. That's why she's after you."

"What do you mean by "dark" Shadowhunters? How would the Cup activate them?" Stacie inquired.

"I don't know much about it. All I know is that she needs the Cup in order to 'finish the job.' At least, that's what I heard."

"From who?" Luke asked.

"From Lexa and her followers. She was in Los Angeles just recently, having a meeting with Shadowhunters that planned on Turning," said Emily.

"Quick question," Chloe intervened. "If you were in Los Angeles, why didn't you tell the Shadowhunters at the Los Angeles Institute, the Blackthorns and Carstairs? Or the High Warlock of Los Angeles, Malcom Fade? Why come all the way to New York City to tell us? No offense, but we don't even know you."

Emily was thoughtful. "Because of Beca. Her mom asked me to keep an eye on her. It was the last thing she said to me before—"

"Why should we believe anything you say?" Beca blurted out. Emily looked a little hurt.

There was a dead silence. Seriously. All the human noise seemed to disappear, like a switch flipping.

"Can I have a minute alone with Beca?" Emily asked carefully, breaking the silence. Luke and Jesse simultaneously stepped forward in front of Beca, then looked at each other defiantly.

Beca glared at both of them. Then Stacie. Then Chloe.

The four cleared the room, leaving Beca and Emily alone together. Emily began wandering around the library.

Ever since Emily walked in the door, Beca had the strangest sense of déjà vu. Strange meaning, she definitely recognized the girl, but she didn't. It was like she had memories of her and they wouldn't surface.

"It's incredible. The library, that is," Emily said.

"You've never been in here before?"

"I wasn't allowed in the Institute while my abilities were still unpredictable and unstable."

"You mean you're not a Shadowhunter?" Beca inquired.

She was laughing. Incredulously, she added, "Do I look like a Shadowhunter?"

Emily made an excellent point. She had no Marks, no scars, no weapon belt; she looked like an ordinary human being. But there was something about her that Beca couldn't quite put her finger on. Something supernatural.

"So… what are you?" asked Beca.

Emily only smiled. "Your mom asked me to look after you. It's the truth. That was the last thing she said to me before Lexa's men… you know."

Beca nodded. Neither of them were comfortable talking about what happened, and both of them understood that.

"Sheila's not my mom." Beca sat down.

Emily sat down beside Beca and twiddled her thumbs. "So, you know? About Alexandria?"

"And you know about me? About what I am?"

She replied too quickly. "I know what your father told me. That's it."

Beca studied her. "No, you're lying. There's something more, isn't there?" she asked. Emily stayed silent. "Tell me."

"I can't."

Beca stared at Emily. "Emily," she started. "Who is Alexandria?"

Emily sighed. "Your birth mother _was _a very bad person." Beca's expression changed. "She died in a fire. Along with your sister."

"My _what?_ Hold on, what do you—"

"I can't say anything else. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Emily—"

"Forget it."

Beca cradled her face in her hands. Her thoughts were bouncing off the walls and doing summersaults.

After reading the journal entries, she felt exactly how she did when she found out she was a Shadowhunter three years ago. Confused, angry, and worst, alone. She'd been feeling like that a lot recently. Everything in her life felt like one giant lie. She thought that had ended three years ago, and that things were finally starting to make sense, but she was wrong. The lies hadn't stopped. Now, she wasn't sure that they ever would.

"Beca, I'm not trying to anger you. I'm only trying to protect you. That's all I've been doing for years."

She looked Emily in the eyes. "What?"

"I'm not just a family friend. I'm a—"

"Beca."

Beca and Emily whipped their heads around and saw Luke standing at the door. His expression was hard to read.

Luke took a deep breath. "The Silent Brothers are ready for you."

"I need a few more minutes with Emily," Beca said. "Can you please—"

"The Brothers don't wait."

She looked back at Emily, who motioned a nod. "Go," she said.

* * *

Beca, in all her years as a Shadowhunter, had never seen the Silent Brothers up close. She knew all about them: their history, what they do, why they're important, what they look like, but she never had the luxury of meeting one. Although, according to Luke, it wasn't much of a luxury.

And now, Beca, Luke, Stacie, Chloe, Emily and Jesse (not without Luke's hesitation) were headed to the Silent City, where they would meet up with the Silent Brothers, and hopefully regain Beca's memories. One of the entrances was located rather close to the Institute, at the New York City Marble Cemetery in Manhattan.

In her readings, she read all about the different types of magic the Brothers could perform, but she was unfamiliar with the process of getting memories back. It was a dangerous task, as all Silent Brotherhood tasks were. She could even be killed, and Luke kept reminding her that she didn't have to do this if she didn't want to. But of course, she wanted to. She had to have her memories.

The Silent City serves as the base of operations of the Silent Brothers, and also as the final resting place of fallen Shadowhunters. It is a complex and extensive city of levels and chambers deep underground. On the lowest levels are the prisoners, those who have committed the worst and most dangerous of wrongdoings. Prisoners whose crimes are not as serious are kept in Alicante, Idris, the original domain of the Shadowhunters. Most of the middle levels of the Silent City are strictly off-limits to non-Brothers. The upper levels were where Beca and the rest were headed. The two upper levels are the City's acrhives and council chambers, where the Soul Sword is kept, one of the three Mortal Instruments.

Beca, Luke, Stacie, Chloe, Emily, and Jesse approached the entrance to the Silent City, and then paused.

"Beca, are you sure you want to do this?" asked Luke.

"Yes. I have to," she replied. Luke sighed and brought her into an embrace, of which she returned. Jesse rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine, Luke."

"If it doesn't work, you die. You know that, don't you?"

With hesitation, Beca nodded.

"Wait, what?" Jesse exclaimed. "No one said anything about _dying_. Beca, you can't—"

"I'm not going to die. It'll work. I'm a Shadowhunter." She silenced Jesse before he could say another word.

"Someone should go with her," Chloe suggested.

"I'll do it," Jesse said immediately.

"No," Luke contradicted. "Mundanes can't enter the Silent City. They die instantly. The runes on the floors and walls are too strong for them. In fact, you're not even supposed to know about this place. _I'll_ go with her."

Beca looked up at Jesse. "I'll be back soon."

She didn't kiss him, or hug hum, or show any affection toward him. Not in front of everyone.

It was heavily against the Law for a Shadowhunter and a mundane to be together. If a Shadowhunter wishes to be with a mundane, the Shadowhunter cannot remain a Shadowhunter. He or she will be stripped of all Marks and cast away from the Shadow World. He or she will live out his or her life as a human.

But Jesse didn't know that.

"Stacie and I will stay with Jesse and Emily," said Chloe.

"I don't need protection," Emily argued.

Beca took a deep breath, and then approached the angel statue upon the entrance to the Silent City. Luke handed her his dagger from his weapons belt, and bringing the blade to the palm of her hand, she made a clean cut. She took one last look at Jesse and the others, and then dripped her blood into the cup resting in the hands of the angel statute.

The stone blocks that formed the doorway to the City shifted and opened. The only things visible were the first three stairs leading down into the first level. The rest was pitch black. And then, a Silent Brother emerged from the darkness.

Beca's mouth fell open.

The pictures didn't do the Silent Brothers justice.

The Brother that stood before her was wearing a parchment-colored, hooded robe that was belted at the waist, just like she had read about. Runes covered the visible parts of his body, including his face. His eyes and mouth were sewn shut, leaving blank spaces where flesh must have been once. His skin was textured and grey.

_Rebeca Mitchell_, said the Brother—sort of. Since their mouths were sewn shut, they communicated telepathically, but only with the people they wanted to speak to. Beca looked around and saw that, clearly, no one else could hear him.

_I am Brother Enoch. Are you sure you want to go through with this? _he asked, although it didn't sound like much of a question. His voice sounded like he was speaking into some sort of voice modifier. It was raspy and deep. Beca wondered what would happen if she said no.

"Yes," Beca said, her voice cracking.

_We will help you to remember. _

Brother Enoch turned around and began his descent back into the City, indicating that Beca and Luke should follow. Luke looked at Beca, and together, they plunged into darkness.

* * *

The descent into hell didn't take nearly as long as Beca thought it would. She expected at least a ten minute journey, but it only took roughly thirty seconds before she was ready to piss her pants.

The Silent City was sometimes called the City of Bones, or the Bone City, and now Beca knew why. The walls were decorated with the skulls and bones of fallen Shadowhunters, and whatever else died in there. She would hate to see the prison cells. The thought was nerve-wracking.

Brother Enoch led Beca and Luke farther and farther into the City of Bones until they reached their destination. It was a circular room carved and etched with runes that covered the walls and floor. At the top of the room hung the Soul Sword. That was how Beca was going to get her memories back.

A Silent Brother stood at each entrance to the circular room, causing Beca to feel a little claustrophobic. Brother Enoch nudged her forward so she was standing in the center. When Luke tried to follow, he was pushed back.

_No, Luke Herondale. _This time, both Luke and Beca could hear Brother Enoch speak telepathically. _She must do this alone._

Luke stood behind Brother Enoch as he took his position.

_If the Soul Sword deems you worthy of the truth, it will give it to you. If it does not, it will impale you. Are you ready? _Brother Enoch asked.

Beca answered, "Yes." Her voice cracked. "I am."

The Silent Brothers began chanting in Latin, and the Soul Sword made its descent, the tip coming towards Beca's head. She looked up and watched as the tip of the Sword punctured the skin on her forehead, right between her eyebrows. And then the room around her disappeared, and she was alone in a white light.

. . .

Then she was suddenly in her house again. Only, everything was where it should be; nothing was out of place like it was the last time she saw it, all destroyed and unhomely. She almost believed she was really there. But she knew it was just a memory.

"_La la la, la la la_," said the voice of a young girl. Beca turned and saw a younger version of herself, maybe five or six, strolling through the house and singing like she always did at that age. Young Beca walked into the bathroom, and Beca followed her. Inside the room, her father stood in front of the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His sleeve was pulled up, revealing several runes drawn on his skin that Young Beca definitely wouldn't have recognized. Her father looked down at young Beca and sighed. Then, he ushered her out of the room and closed the door.

The scene changed. Young Beca, now about ten, was spying on Sheila and Jonathan Mitchell as they talked in the kitchen.

"_She's due for another appointment with Magnus. She was drawing the rune again_," said John.

"_You need to tell her, John_," Sheila retorted.

"_She's not ready. Not yet_."

"_Yes she is."_ Sheila looked him in the eyes. "_You're not_."

The scene changed again. Sheila and her dad were in the living room while Young Beca was behind the couch, examining what looked like tarot cards. On one card in particular, a picture of the Mortal Cup was painted.

"_Beca, what do you have there?"_ asked her father. Young Beca showed the cards in her hand. Jonathan and Sheila Mitchell exchanged a worried glance.

The scene changed. An image of a silver box with the initials A.P.M. appeared.

It changed again. An image of a gargoyle doorknocker surfaced, and then it quickly changed into a familiar face of a man Beca couldn't name, and then back to the doorknocker, and back to the face.

It flickered to an image of what looked like an older version of Beca, only it wasn't Beca. This woman had long brown hair that was tied back with a black ribbon. She was standing outside in a yard. She was holding something—a syringe. The ground was burned into a pentacle, and the woman started chanting. She was holding the Mortal Cup.

Alexandria. It had to be.

So this was what her dad was talking about in his journal. This is what Alexandria was doing. This—

"_Stop!"_ said a voice that was all too familiar. Her dad. Jonathan Mitchell held a baby Beca in his arms. Maybe days after birth.

"_Don't try and stop me, Jonathan. You know you cannot."_ Alexandria continued to chant.

"_Alexandria—"_

"_Don't call me that," _Alexandria breathed out. _"You know my name. You know what it is now." _

Then she saw a burning building—the Morgenstern family house in Alicante, Idris. She didn't know how she recognized it. She just did. The image flickered to the bones of an adult and a child, Alexandria and Beca's dead sister, she guessed, based on what Emily told her. Her dad was standing over the ashes and the bones with a baby in his arms. He was crying. Beca wondered if that baby was her.

The image of a gargoyle doorknocker surfaced again, and as did a clearer image of the Asian man with the familiar face. He had the eyes of a cat; his pupils were slits.

Then a memory replayed, as if it hadn't finished the first time.

"_Don't try and stop me, Jonathan. You know you cannot," _Alexandria said, once again.

"_Alexandria—,_" said Beca's dad with baby Beca in his arms.

"_Don't call me that," _Alexandria breathed out. _"You know my name. You know what it is now." _

Jonathan Mitchell stepped back, and sighed. _"Lexa."_

_Lexa. _The memory of her dad saying her mother's name replayed and replayed. _Lexa. Short for Alexandria. Of course. Why didn't I see it? _Beca thought. _The fire must have been a cover up. An illusion._

Now she was mad.

Dozens of memories were flashing through her head at a rapid pace. The gargoyle, the man, the fire, the box, the tarot card, Alexandria/Lexa, her dad saying Lexa's name, the man, the gargoyle, Alexandria/Lexa, the box, the fire, the man, the box. It was memory after memory after memory. She felt a throbbing sensation in the side of her head.

Then, her mind went black.

* * *

Inside the Silent City, Beca's body collapsed. Luke rushed to her side and wiped the blood coming from the puncture wound the Soul Sword gave her. Her body was as cold as ice, and she was completely still.

"Beca? Beca, wake up," Luke pleaded. He shook her. "_Beca!_"

She wasn't breathing. She wasn't moving. She was just bleeding. Luke looked at Brother Enoch. "_Do something!"_ he screamed. Tears welled up in his eyes.

This time, no Silent Brother spoke a word.

* * *

Outside the Silent City, Jesse was frantic.

"What if something happens? What if she doesn't come back?" he said, his words running together. "I should have gone with her. No—she shouldn't have gone. We need to get her out." He started for the entrance, but Chloe and Stacie collectively pulled him back.

"Jesse, no," Stacie said. "Luke wasn't lying. You step one foot inside that chasm, you'll incinerate."

"What if—"

"Jesse. Stop. You're going to drive yourself mad," Emily intervened. "It won't be much longer. I'm sure she's fine."

* * *

Beca lay still. Some blood had dried on her face, and some was matted in her hair. But she was still bleeding. And she wasn't breathing. Luke didn't know what to do.

_We must move her, _said Brother Enoch. _We must bring her body to the—_

"Don't touch her," Luke retorted, through tears. "You don't get to lay a hand on her._ You_ did _this_."

He pressed his thumb to the wound in her forehead.

Then her body twitched.

"Beca?" Luke pondered closer. At that moment, her entire body jerked and trembled. Luke heard several cracks inside her body as it convulsed. Her fingers moved to write something in the dust on the ground. When she stopped, she was still for another moment, and then she stirred to life and screamed.

"Beca! You're ali—"

"Get off of me!" she yelled. Luke obliged and stepped back. He faced the wall to wipe the tears from his eyes. Because he wasn't crying. Not in front of Beca. Not because he thought she was dead. Definitely not.

Beca ran up to Brother Enoch, her hand reaching for her seraph blade. "What the hell was that?"

_The block on your mind was stronger than anticipated. It can only be removed by the warlock who put it there, _said Enoch.

"And how am I supposed to know who put it there?"

_You wrote it._

He was right. Beca stepped over to where she was previously, and saw the letters: B-A-N-E.

"Bane?" she repeated.

"Magnus Bane," Luke said. Beca almost forgot he was there. "Of course. He's the High Warlock of Brooklyn. It makes sense. Although, why would _he_ do a favor for your dad?"

_The answer does not lie here, _Brother Enoch said._ It can only be found within the walls of the High Warlock's estate. Go now. I fear you are running out of time._

Beca was in disarray. "Running out of time? What—"

Luke stepped in front of her and grabbed her hand. "We need to go."

They rushed out of the Silent City.

* * *

Jesse was pressing further. "I need—need to get in the City."

Emily was propped up on a gravestone, watching Jesse argue with Chloe and Stacie. She considered leaving, sneaking away before anyone realized she was missing, but she decided against it. She needed to be there for Beca when she came out. Beca would be upset.

"For the last time," said Chloe. "You _can't_."

"Then one of you go! If I can't go, then someone else needs to! She's—Beca?"

Chloe, Stacie, and Emily turned around to face the entrance to the City of Bones at the mention of Beca's name. And just as Jesse said, there she was, emerging from the Silent City with Luke, covered in blood.

Jesse rushed to her side. "Beca! What happened? Why are you covered in—"

"I'm fine," Beca said. Her eyes were searching for something other than Jesse.

"You are most definitely not fine."

"I survived. That means I'm fine." She shrugged him off once she saw Emily, and charged toward her.

Emily stood up off of the grave she was sitting on. "Listen, Beca, I didn't mean—"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Beca forcefully pushed Emily down on to the ground with all her strength, then pinned her wrists beside her head with one hand and choked her with the other. "You lied to me. You _knew _the truth, yet you lied. Why did you lie?"

Emily struggled underneath her. "I… I was trying to protect you."

Beca stared down at her, looking for any sign of a lie. Her hand made contact with Emily's cheek in a hard slap.

"Beca, stop," Luke said, making his way over to Beca and Emily.

But Beca was still staring at Emily. And Emily's cheek was stinging. Then, a deep growl elicited from Emily, and her eyes turned yellow. Beca jerked back. Luke pried Beca off, holding her back before she could do more damage. Emily stood up, rubbing her cheek from the impact.

Then Beca spoke again. "You're just full of lies, aren't you?" It wasn't a question. "Be honest. Tell me if I'm right. First things first. You're clearly a werewolf. Yes or no?"

At first, Emily didn't say anything. She looked at Beca, then at Luke, then Jesse, Stacie, and Chloe. And then she nodded.

"Okay. Second. You knew what I would find out if I went in the City, yes or no?"

She nodded again.

Beca grimaced. With caution, she asked her last question. "You know who Alexandria really is, yes or no?"

No reply. Beca stood in a defensive position, ready to shake Luke off of her if she needed to. "You know who Alexandria is. Yes. Or. No," she repeated.

Emily faltered. "Yes."

"You _son of a bitch!_" Beca yelled, elbowing Luke, causing his grip on her to loosen, and then she ran and attacked Emily. She went in for a punch, but Emily caught her wrist and twisted it until Beca was kneeling on the ground. That caught Beca off guard; only someone with lightning fast reflexes could catch a Shadowhunter's punch. Emily's eyes turned yellow again, and her claws dug into Beca's wrist. Beca threw another punch, but this time, her fist made contact with Emily's throat. Emily fell backward and coughed. Beca landed on top of her and, again, pinned her wrists beside her head.

"Beca, stop," Luke said. Chloe, Stacie, and Jesse were watching in horror; they had no idea what was happening or why. No one did. No one except Beca or Emily. Even Luke didn't know what Beca had seen in the City.

Emily spit on the ground. "No, let her continue. Pour all of your anger on me, Beca. Kill me. And then go and find your dad. Then what are you gonna do? Kill him? Because he lied to you too?"

Beca's breathing slowed down.

"You can't just kill everyone who causes you pain, Beca! That's what your m—," she stopped herself when she saw that Beca's gaze was one of warning. "That's what_ Lexa_ does. Your father lied to protect you. To _protect _you. You're the most important thing to him." Emily's demeanor didn't change. "And so did I. I lied to protect you. That's all I've done for the past three years."

Then realization dawned on her like the sun rising. Of course. Why didn't she see it before?

_It took roughly fifteen minutes for Beca to figure out that they were being followed. _

_Not by someone, but by something. _

_They had been relatively close to the Institute. Beca turned around at the sound of a light pitter-patter and, in the dark of the night, saw two glowing yellow eyes—the eyes of a werewolf. Her Nyx rune had kicked in, and she saw the werewolf turn around and run. She didn't give it much thought after it had fled, because saving Benji was more important. And, a werewolf couldn't tread on the holy grounds of the Institute in wolf form. It was against the Accords._

Beca snapped back to reality. "The werewolf. Outside of the Institute, when we were bringing Benji back from Dumort. That was you, wasn't it?"

Emily nodded. "I've been staying hidden for a while now, checking up on you every few months."

Beca loosened her grip on Emily and stood up, then reached out her hand. Emily took it.

"Right," Stacie said. "So, what… exactly… just happened?"

"We can talk about it later," Beca decided. She looked down at her blood-and-dirt-and-dust-covered clothing and skin. She didn't even want to see what she looked like in the mirror. "Right now, I really want to shower."

"That, and Maryse just sent a fire message," Luke said. He turned to Jesse. "Benji's awake."

* * *

**A/N: I passed all my SOLs, which means I'm exempt from exams, which means summer is almost here. Thank you Raziel. (See what I did there). **


	9. Endurance

**Shadowhunter**

**Chapter 9: Endurance**

* * *

_"You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all." -The Infernal Devices_

* * *

Jesse remembered when he and Benji first met.

It was the first day of college at NYU. He and Beca were supposed to go to college there together, but that hadn't worked out—clearly. Jesse should've started college a semester late because of his break from school after Beca left, but he caught up on all of his classes in the summer and was able to start on time.

He had wanted a single dorm room. After Beca left, he wasn't the same, and he stopped hanging out with his friends. He didn't really want to be around anyone. It was as if a piece of him had been broken off when Beca left.

But of course, NYU didn't have many single dorms. So, he was put into a room with a guy named Benjamin Applebaum. Jesse's first thoughts were that he probably went by Ben, and that he was probably a total jock in high school. Most Bens were.

Then he actually _met_ Benjamin. Turns out, he was the exact opposite.

Benjamin was a magician—sorry, _certified illusionist_—that went by Ben_ji_. He wanted to major in musical theatre, and had no problem demonstrating his illusionist talents, or showing off his Star Wars collection, all the while being humble about it. Not that bragging was much of an option unless you were friends with the cast of the _Big Bang Theory._

They clicked instantly. Jesse wasn't too much like Benji, but he guessed that was a good thing. They worked well together nonetheless, and Jesse didn't have to worry about Benji partying every night or having a bunch of loud and irresponsible friends over.

Sophomore year, they moved out of their dorm and rented an apartment together. It was much more spacious; Benji had more room for his Star Wars collection that had actually managed to grow.

Benji helped Jesse with a lot of things—personal things. When he was down about Beca, Benji helped him through it. And vice versa. When Benji's dad was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, Jesse was right there with him.

Seeing Benji now, weak and barely alive, nearly shattered Jesse's already broken heart. His best friend was hurt because of him.

Maryse and Robert Lightwood were in the infirmary when Jesse, Beca, Luke, Stacie, Chloe, and Emily all got there. They stepped aside when they saw Jesse, however.

Jesse marched over to Benji's bedside, tears threatening to surface. He blinked them back.

"I can't believe I wasn't there when you woke up," Jesse said. Benji managed a weak smile. "I am so, so, so sorry this happened to you. It's all my fault. If I hadn't—"

"Jesse, it's alright." He coughed. "I'm alright. Bruised and confused, but alright."

"I know. I know you are. I'll explain everything. But not right now," Jesse decided. "You should eat. Or—or drink."

Benji placed his hand on his throat. "I am kind of thirsty. But, if you don't mind me asking," he paused, and looked at the rest of the group. "Who are all of these people? And where the _hell _amI?"

Jesse turned around, about to introduce everyone, when he saw Maryse pull Beca and Luke to the side. _Just _Luke and Beca. Together. Side by side. Like they'd fought together their whole lives. Like they were two peas in a pod. Like you didn't get one without the other.

And the chess match continues.

* * *

Luke had been thinking about what Maryse had said in the fire message the entire walk home.

_Luke, _

_You all need to come straight to the Institute. There's something you need to see. Oh, and Jesse's friend is awake. Please hurry!_

_Maryse_

So what could that have meant?

Several things, probably. A new cooking recipe, he had hoped. But he knew that whatever Maryse Lightwood needed to discuss, it had nothing to do with his roaring stomach.

Maryse pulled Luke and Beca away from Benji's bedside, and Stacie and Chloe followed shortly after. Beca made brief eye contact with Jesse, and then left the room, leaving him and Benji and Emily alone. She sort of felt bad for leaving Jesse out, but mundanes weren't to be involved in important Shadowhunter business. And whenever Maryse had something to say, it definitely had to do with important Shadowhunter business.

First things first: she hated talking quietly. Maryse liked to be upfront and in front of the Consul and the Conclave meetings. Secrets made her uncomfortable. As head of the Institute, she was required to tell everything to the Clave, and she did so without hesitation. But right now, Maryse was hiding something, and everyone knew it. It was even more obvious that she had yet to tell the Clave.

"Mom, what is it?" Stacie asked.

Maryse looked as if she'd seen a ghost. "Someone came to the Institute while you were away."

There was a pause. Beca was the first to speak up. "Who?"

Now Luke, Stacie, and Chloe looked as if _they'd_ seen a ghost. Probably the same ghost. "Am I missing something?" she asked.

"Bring her out, Robert," Maryse called out to the hallway behind her. A door opened, and out came Robert Lightwood, and a person Beca didn't recognize. She was tall, blonde, and her eyes were bright green. Pretty.

Upon her skin, there were runes, but not many. Definitely not as many runes as she should have had. She had the Voyance rune on her right hand, a Mnemosyne rune on her forearm, and—that was it. Both were permanent ones that didn't fade over time like other runes. The others were just scarred runes, probably years old. What kind of Shadowhunter only has two runes?

She wore tattered black gear, but she must have left or lost her jacket somewhere. She was unarmed. No seraph blades, no daggers, no weapons at all. At least, no visible ones. On her neck, a Shadowhunter family ring shined on a silver chain. Beca couldn't make out the letter on it.

But the question remained. Why would an unprepared, un-runed, unarmed Shadowhunter wander into the New York Institute? Who was she?

"Aubrey," Chloe breathed. Stacie tightened her grip on her parabatai, as if a painful memory had just resurfaced in both of their minds and she was protecting her.

"Chloe." Aubrey smiled. "Stacie. Luke. It's nice to see you again."

"Aubrey," Luke said quickly, almost interrupting her. "How… we thought—we thought you were _dead_."

"Aubrey was kidnapped by Lexa Morgenstern," Maryse said. Beca paled. She continued with the rest of Aubrey's story, explaining how she was kept in a cellar/dungeon for three years and tortured for the information she wouldn't give up. She was beaten, whipped, and went days without food or water. Aubrey was staring at Beca the entire time Maryse was talking, but Beca pretended not to notice.

Aubrey's appearance matched her story, kind of. She had visible, raised scars along her arms, neck, and legs—more than the average Shadowhunter. When she turned, Beca could see scarred whip lashes across her back. That went along with the tortured part of the story. But she seemed like she had been well-fed and taken care of. She was muscular. She looked healthy. Definitely not starved. Maybe not even too beaten. Most of the scars looked more than just three years old.

Beca never knew Aubrey Penrose; she was told about her only yesterday at the Conclave meeting, just before Jesse arrived. Stacie had said she went MIA the day Beca arrived at the Institute, three years ago.

"You must be Beca M—Mitchell," said Aubrey, slowly approaching the much shorter Shadowhunter and holding out her hand. Beca accepted it. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance. I've been waiting so long to meet you."

"I… You too?" Beca said. What she meant was: _I don't actually know anything about you and I wasn't looking forward to meeting you because everyone thought you were dead. And necromancy is illegal. So, I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way. You're making me uncomfortable. _

"What, did Lexa tell you things about her?" Luke asked, suddenly feeling very protective towards Beca. Chloe glared at him.

"Yes, actually," Aubrey said. Beca felt queasy. _What if she says something about Lexa being my mom? _

But Aubrey only looked at her with kind eyes, mixed with some other emotion. Beca couldn't tell what it was. "She said she knows you have the Cup."

A breath Beca didn't know she had been holding was let out. "Her and, what, forty-five thousand others?"

"Did she send you to take it?" Luke asked.

"Luke!" Chloe exclaimed. "Stop being so rude." She elbowed him in the abs. Luke just shrugged.

"No. I escaped without her knowledge," said Aubrey, unbelievably calm. "Through a portal. I don't know where she was holding me for those years—I never got the chance to look out a window. Could've been anywhere on the globe. A warlock helped me escape."

If she was lying, she was hiding it pretty damn well.

"Do you know who?" Maryse asked. Aubrey shook her head. "Well, I'm glad you're back. Your room is still here. And the bathrooms are in the same place. What am I talking about? Of course they're in the same place. This Institute is a thousand years old. Ha. Oh, there's food in the fridge, or I can cook, or—"

"Maryse, it's okay. I'd actually like to get some sleep. Maybe shower, too." Aubrey turned toward Beca and the others. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Beca. And it's nice to be back." She turned on her heel and trotted up the staircase. Everyone watched her go.

"It's late," Maryse said, after a drawn-out moment passed. "We should all get some rest. Especially you four. I don't even want to hear about all the adventures you went on today."

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on." Jesse paused, waiting for Benji to continue. "So your ex-girlfriend is a—a what? A _Shadowhunter_? And she fights demons for a living? And warlocks and vampires and werewolves and faeries actually exist?" Benji looked incredulous. "Cool."

Jesse had given Benji the rundown. He deserved to know what was going on, plus he had begun to remember things from Dumort, and Jesse didn't want him to think he was going insane. Although Jesse had not been so sure at first, Benji seemed to accept everything he was telling him.

"Cool? That's it? That's all you're gonna say?"

"Well, yeah. It sounds better than my theories. I thought I was kidnapped and put on, like, seven different illegal drugs at once, like amphetamines or something. This is much better. Plus, I've always believed in magic. Clearly," said Benji, pulling a quarter from Jesse's ear. Where he got the quarter from, Jesse wasn't sure. Do Shadowhunters use mundane money? And did he really just refer to himself as a mundane?

"So am I gonna meet them? Your friends? I mean, formally?"

Jesse glanced at the closed door. He was itching to know what was going on on the other side, but he wasn't invited to whatever it was. He was a mundane. That's just how it was.

"Yeah, you can meet Emily first. Emily?" Jesse called. The younger girl poked her head up from behind one of the infirmary desks. "She's a werewolf."

Emily smiled at Benji. "Nice to meet you. Glad you're not dead."

"… Thanks?" Benji said. His demeanor changed into a thoughtful one. "Can you… do the… the thing?" Emily glanced at Jesse, who was equally confused. "You know, the—the—," he put his hands up and positioned his fingers as if they were claws. "Wolf-y thing."

"You mean you want me to transform?" Emily clarified. Benji nodded. "No can do. I'm bound by the Accords. Werewolves can't go into full-on wolf-form in Institutes just as vampires can't tread inside them."

"Full-on wolf-form? Do you have like, a half-transformation then?" Benji inquired. Emily smiled, and then her eyes flashed yellow. "Woah."

The sound of a door clicking open led to the trio's turning heads. Beca and Luke appeared in the doorway.

Luke looked especially protective just then. Jesse could see it written all over his face. Something had happened behind that door, and he guessed he wasn't going to be let in on anything. Oh, and he wasn't supposed to be concerned, right? Because he was a mundane, right? That's what Beca had said.

"So, Mundane 1 and 2 are both alive and well," Luke said, clapping his hands together. Jesse immediately felt a pinch of annoyance. "Someone let Dr. Seuss know."

"Hi," said Benji.

Luke walked closer to the certified illusionist and held out his hand. Benji accepted it, with only slight hesitation. "Nice to formally meet you. Luke Herondale, demon hunter."

Benji was awe-struck at all of the tattoos on his arms, and his structured-build. He looked like he could kill someone. He probably has, actually. "Benjiman Applebaum, Keymaster. Are you the Gatekeeper?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Shadowhunters weren't very well-versed in mundane things like movies, computers, or social media. They stuck to Shadowhunter knowledge, because that's all they needed to know. Killing demons, drawing runes. Quip fast, die young.

"Just call him Benji," Jesse cleared up. He glanced over at Beca, who was deep into conversation with Emily. He couldn't make out any of the words they were saying; they were out of earshot. The Shadowhunter and the werewolf were laughing, however. That, he could see. It's funny how you can be at each other's throats one minute and act like nothing happened in the next.

He remembered that laugh like a punch to the stomach. Because really, that's what it felt like. A punch to the stomach. _He _used to make her laugh like that. _He _made her happy like that. When she laughed, it was like the world suddenly got ten times clearer. She was one of those girls who smiled with her whole face, not just her mouth. Jesse always loved that about her.

"So when should we leave?" Benji said aloud. Jesse almost didn't hear him. He didn't even notice that Luke had left the room. No one did.

He snapped out of his reverie. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we clearly can't _stay_ here. Plus, I've got homework, and an apartment to clean up, and—"

"Wait, Benji, we can't just _leave_. I—I can't leave. Not now," Jesse said. Benji shifted his weight from one side to the other and groaned when he felt a shooting pain go up his side. Jesse reacted immediately, helping him into a more comfortable position. Beads of sweat ran down his temples and cheeks, and his forehead was hot. Something was wrong. Jesse placed a cold, wet washcloth to his forehead.

"You're feverish. You definitely can't leave. Not until you're better," Jesse decided. "Get some rest. If you need _anything_, call me. Do you want me to stay down here?"

"No," Benji said, weakly. "I'll be alright. Really, I will be."

Jesse almost believed him.

* * *

Eleven o'clock had come and gone in what felt like seconds. It was past midnight now, but Luke was wide awake. Thinking about the Silent City. Reliving everything.

_Why am I so stupid?_

An Endurance rune burned into his skin. He needed it. It stung, as all runes did, but it was a familiar, welcoming sting. Refreshing, even. Shadowhunters grew accustomed to the sensation fairly quickly, but select runes were more painful than others. Luke almost wished this one hurt more.

And then he heard that knock on the door.

* * *

Was someone throwing rocks at her window?

Beca was applying an iratze to her forearm, daydreaming as the stele chased away the peach-colored pigment in her skin and replaced it with black lines, when she heard a thump on her window. Then another. Then another.

_By the Angel, if Jesse is up to his romantics at eleven o'clock at night…_

But it wasn't Jesse. And they weren't rocks; they were acorns.

She sighed and put down her stele, then slowly approached the window. On the sill, a bright green leaf that was visible even in the darkness of night lay still, around a couple of acorns. Speaking of which—the thumps had stopped. Whoever left the leaf message must've known she'd received it.

Faerie messages were sent in acorns and on leaves, and they incinerated after the message was read. Beca never really understood that sort of magic.

She carefully opened up her window and grabbed the leaf. Who could have left it? A faerie, no doubt, but for what reason? She let her eyes rest upon the script. The writing was shaky.

_Dearest Rebeca, _

_I do apologize for the faerie message. They are not as convenient as regular letters, but I had to make sure no one else read it. I know you know about your little power. It is true—but it is too long a story to explain how you obtained it. What is important is that you use it now. Go home. Find the gift I left for you. Do not tell anyone._

_Anonymous_

The leaf burned in her hands and crumpled to ash. Just as all faerie messages did.

It could have been her father. He could have paid a faerie to send the message. That must be it. Why else would she feel the urge to adhere to the message's instructions, as vague as they were? Had it been anyone else, she most likely wouldn't go. She wouldn't have this gut feeling that she should.

She grabbed her weapons belt and seraph blades and headed to the room Jesse was staying in. Since no one knew how long his stay would be, everyone decided it would be better to have him stay in a guest room. Not as fancy as a more permanent Shadowhunter room, but not too shabby.

Beca drew near the door to his room and raised her hand to knock, but paused. Should she wake Jesse up? Should she force him on a maybe-dangerous quest? It wouldn't really be forcing; she knew he'd go wherever with her, and vice versa. But maybe if he didn't know… she could protect him just a little longer. The thought made her breathing slow down.

_Jesse is safe… How much longer will I be able to say that?_

She slowly gripped the knob and turned, opening the door ever so slightly, leaving just enough room for her to slip through. Jesse wasn't a light sleeper; he was the opposite, actually. He always has been. Beca used to jump on his bed when they were little to wake him up because it was the only way. It became easier over the years, however; a nice shake to the bicep or side awoke him now. But not footsteps. Unlike Beca, footsteps never stirred him.

She stood by the side of the bed and watched him as he slept, observing the rise and fall pattern of his breathing. It was almost possible to imagine the old days, when there were no demons for her to kill, no Cup for her to find, no evil demonic mother for her to stop. Days when they could just be Beca and Jesse, and Jesse and Beca. Almost possible. Almost.

But those days weren't real. They just weren't.

She closed the door behind her and trotted down the hall to knock on Luke's door. He had to be awake. The demon-hunting night owl in him doesn't rest more than five hours.

The door opened. Luke was standing in the doorway, leaning against the side.

"What's up, Bec?"

She marched through the door and sat down in the chair at his desk. How does one approach such an ambiguous topic? _Hey Luke, I got a message on a leaf from Faerieland telling me to go pick up a pretty present in my deceased home! How's your night going?_

He sat down at the foot of his bed and waited for her to speak up.

She did. "I think my dad sent me a message."

"What?" Luke was… surprised. That's not exactly what he was expecting. How would a prisoner send a message? But he wouldn't say that to her.

"Well… a faerie message. I don't even know if it's from my dad, but I really think it is. I can't help but think that."

"What did it say?"

Beca paused, and looked at him dead in the eye. How much should she tell him? Her power? No, probably not. Not now, anyway. "It said I needed to find something that was left for me in my old house. Tonight."

"'Something?' That's all it said?"

She crossed her arms. "I think I'll know it when I see it."

Luke knew why she came to him. He'd be the only one willing to go on such a stupid mission. Regardless, he said, "I don't know if it's a good idea."

Music to her ears. "That's why I came to you. But if you don't want to come with me, I understand. I'll be back before tomorrow."

Luke stood up. "Don't be ridiculous, Beca." His voice was stern. "Of course I'm coming with you. But how do you know it's not a trick?"

She looked at him, and it was a look that he knew all too well, and she replied, "I don't."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, just so there's no confusion, PLEASE don't start shipping Emily and Benji in this story. Emily's 15. Benji's 20. Ship them in the movie, but not in this story. That'd be weird. And illegal. And… no. **

**Also, I've gotten some comments… So just to clear those up, no, I don't ship Beca/Luke :) But they do have a pretty interesting story... **

**What _did _happen between them in those three years? **

**Let me know your thoughts on this chapter :) **


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